I find that I am happier and more relaxed in my own skin when I do each of the following things for at least an hour:
1. Play with the kiddo, preferably outside, definitely with no TV on in the background. When I play with him and let him lead the play and don’t try text or flip through a magazine or in some other way zone out, I feel like the mother I want to be.
2. Exercise for myself, preferably outside. I resist it so often but I never regret it when I take the time to do it. Today, for example, I was sitting in my office trying to fend off a minor anxiety attack (I realized I biffed something with our finances and I almost never biff things in this area) when I decided to force myself to go for a bike ride. I went, I sweated, I came back with a much needed sense of perspective (the biff was fixable, inconvenient but fixable) and a feeling akin to mental health.
3. Write on non-blog related stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I love the blogging. But I have this thing I’m working on (and by “working on” I mean that it is 50 pages long, terrible, and I haven’t done jack shit on it in weeks and weeks) and I feel better when I actually take the time to work on it.
So, three things. All that require an hour of my time each. That almost seems like it should be doable on like a daily basis. And yet? I almost never get even two of them done on the same day, let alone three.
This frustrates me.
I figure I have about 4, maybe 5, hours a day that are mine to decide what to do with and yet I can’t seem to get these three things done. I get a lot of TV watching and blog reading done though.
I think I am just feeling crabby tonight because I am dealing with the realization that it is freaking September and I have a week and a half (!) until my next race and once again I am under trained for it. I had time this summer and I didn’t use it and now I’ll be huffing and puffing through a sprint tri, no doubt bringing up the rear, and I could have done better to get ready for it.
Sorry, grumpy blogger tonight.