There are thirteen days left in Lent (not including today) and I have eighteen bags to go. A certain someone who will be known as Kiko thinks I won’t make it.
Yes. I. Will.
The hardest bags (actually boxes) are filled and gone: books and art supplies. I thought long and hard about how much reading and painting I do versus how much I dream of doing.
I was reminded of a personal organizer who worked in the Detroit Metro area. She said – and I paraphrase based on memory – that people were haunted by reminders of their old hobbies and felt relieved when they gave those tools and supplies away. I mostly feel sad that those activities have fallen by the wayside on this crazy road of life.
I missed last week’s blog because I went to The Young Human Factory and stayed there until quite late, assessing the quality of our products. I spent extra hours there this weekend, too, but to get ahead.
- I made the second payment on the principle of La Casa de Tontería’s mortgage.
- After a month of bullet journaling, I had to replace the journal. Schedules kept changing, events were cancelled indefinitely, and the pages didn’t hold up to the rigors of being crammed into an already-stuffed satchel and stuffed with sticky-notes. Pro tip: write dates in ink, plans in pencil.
- My writing stinks. I cannot find a way to save the novel’s rough draft. In the meantime, members of my writers’ group are making inroads all over Steemit, Amazon, magazines, and actual printing presses! I have got to finish a short story STAT before the pros have no time to read other people’s crappy drafts.
I thought this was an interesting article about wearing a minimalist wardrobe as a realtor work uniform. My mother knew a woman – a law clerk, as I recall – who always wore black blouses with black trousers with accessories supplying color and variety. For those who adopt such habits, dressing becomes an absolute no-brainer.
My own wardrobe is divided in half: work clothes and play clothes. Never the twain shall meet, with the exception of informal clothes like a T-shirt under a suit jacket. A few years ago, I had casual clothes only for summer, not even a pair of jeans.
After I posted about starting a bullet journal, an online pal and an old colleague sent me a link to Prevention writer Erinne Magee’s explanation of how she used bullet journaling to lose weight.
Although I’m more interested in gaining muscle and stamina, I got some ideas. I hope other readers may find it helpful, too.
I started a Bullet Journal this week.
I’m actually a little angry that I didn’t do it before. Not angry at myself, mind you – no, I’m angry at the ladies who introduced me to the concept, complete with different colors, highlighters, stickers, etc. and apps on their Smartphones.
In other words, they complicated it when the entire point of bullet journaling is to focus on what is important. Ryder Carroll created it as a tool to combat a cluttered mind and a distracted life. Continue reading
As faithful readers may remember, my job as a Quality Control Inspector at the Young Human Factory underwent a transformation this fall. I was put in charge of teaching English to members – or potential members – of the Middle School Mafia. A daunting task, but I am buoyed by the vision of them communicating without grunts, egg-flinging, and ritualistic doorbell-ringing.
For the same low price, I now deliver eight more hours a week of service AND the daily 53 minutes of preparation time was eliminated. But it has really helped my time management, since I have so little.
Weekends are not my own, nor vacations. Continue reading