mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dog Crap Last night I started to have a mini-breakdown. As I have mentioned, we've been redoing the wood floors in the house. Like most projects Pete and I take on, this one is a much bigger ordeal than it started out to be. "Started out" for us is basically the stage where we discuss how great something will be when we're done. A sample of the conversation regarding the floors might go like this: Mrs-Roboto: "Wow, when these floors are done it will look so cool in here." The things we never talk about include how messy it will be, or how long it will take, or how we will have to move everything into the dining room and kitchen and then try to maneuver around all our crap to get a friggin' glass of water out of the tap. We also don't talk about how depressing it is to move two folding chairs back into the unfinished living room each night along with the TV (which is sitting on the floor because it needs to plug into the cable jack by the far wall) and sit there uncomfortably shifting on our aluminum seats viewing episodes of MTV's Fraternity Life. You see, when I think about home improvement I think about Trading Spaces or While You Were Out. Two days and a $1000.00 later it's a complete success, instant gratification! Reality is quite the opposite. To get things to look good takes time and energy and effort (and cash but I really don't want to explore this segment today as I will cry), all of which seem to be in short supply these days. The floor project requires constant sanding and detailing. Each step of the process seems to unveil another dilemma which needs to be solved. And every night I sweep up another layer of dust and and wipe down all the counters and try to get the dirt out the cracks of kitchen linoleum while still getting the every day crap done. To add insult to injury, I started the gardening project last weekend and worked on that for a few hours every night this week. With Daylight Savings Time in full effect, I've been out in the yard till 9:00PM each evening praying for some noticeable improvement. I'm hoping it's just my frantic state but as of last night, I just felt things looked worse. It's sort of like when you cut your own bangs and just as you think it's all done, you notice an uneven spot so you take off a bit more but still it's uneven. You cut back a few more more strands, then more, and suddenly you realize your bangs are an eighth of an inch long and you look ridiculous and there's nothing you can do. Okay, it's not that bad but it felt that way last night. I've felt this way before, overwhelmed and defeated. It's a common characteristic of my personality. I have a way of dealing with it, something a former employer taught me in my youth. He said "pick a single project and focus on tackling it. Select something small, something you can accomplish in under two hours." The idea is to get one task done and revel in that success thus lightening your mood. When you feel better pick a three hour task and tackle that, then a four hour, and so on. Last night I picked a simple one, one easily within my skill set. I decided to pick up all the dog shit in the yard. I try to do this weekly but it has sort of taken a back seat to the billions of other things I've been juggling. I would say we had three weeks of dog crap in the yard. So I got my gloves and my bags and a larger garbage bag to dispose of it all in and headed out. Here's a little tip for anyone who's stressed and thinking of following the above noted advice - picking up dog shit will not make you feel any better. Two hours of picking up crap will only make you feel more like crap and may make you think about making a drop off at the pound (just kidding Desmond). After filling the bag, and I mean full FULL, I felt worse than when I started. Luckily, I had the forethought to pick up some red wine on the way home which seems to help me unwind much better than my earlier "accomplishment." My plan for tonight is to forget all this crap (literally), dust (also literally) off a pretty skirt and cute blouse, thrown on my new fishnets, and go see Frank Black and the Catholics. I'll throw in a few adult beverages and sway to the music and all will be good and right in the world for a little while. Tomorrow, Itzie will come back and help me feel better about the current state of affairs in the yard (perhaps she'll even be impressed that the flower beds are tilled). And later on I'll get the barbecue running and grill some salmon and veggies. I'll attend the Ballard art walk that night (I see a few more beverages in store for me there) and appreciate other peoples symmetry and vision. Slowly but surely the pieces will fall into place. Deep breaths, it will all be okay. 9:05 a.m. - 2003-04-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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