The day of loathes that didnt suck

I spent the entirety of today doing things I absolutely loathe.

I guess, to be fair, I should say that the bookends of the day were pretty good. I began the day getting pretty much all of my vision board for 2019 put together. This is not only exciting because I want some pretty awesome things for the year, but also it's the first vision board I've ever actually completed (and please note, dozens were started) because I stopped over thinking it. Even with my new commitment to myself I still had to have the internal monologue that went more or less like:
"But are you sure this is reeeeeally what you want?"
"I mean no, I guess I'm not sure I want this more than something else I don't know about, but it would be pretty effing cool to achieve"
"Yeah but, what if you focus all of your energy on this and something else cooler comes in to your world"
"Well then I guess I will just have to switch them out, won't I? Piss off now, I'm busy"

Slightly aggressive internal monologue aside, the achievement of the project along with the freaking rad things that are in store for me this year sent me in to my day on a serious high, ready to take on the world. 

And thank goodness for that. Because next was my first yoga class in quite awhile. Coming off a long hiatus, coupled with some serious Texas hospitality (and by that I mean an excess of freaking delicious, fattening food and wonderful amazing cocktails) and 2 days of trucker food (and by that I mean gas station sandwiches and whichever fast food is walking distance from the only hotel in town that has truck parking), I was wisely dreading my first day back. 

I almost talked myself out of going 4 times before I left the house (cause, you know, I had the vision board to work on...and my coffee hadn't yet been savored to an adequate level). I made Alexa tell me when I need to get my no-longer-a-yoga booty up off my chair and leave the house. And I am not even kidding you, I sat in to the parking lot of the studio and almost talked myself in to just switching to a later class....you know, cause the husband has his play off whatever draft thing tonight so it makes waaaaaaay more sense. But I recognized right then and there that I would find a similar excuse later that evening because there weren't any classes claiming they were perfect fit for the excuse maker who'd lost most of the muscle tone they'd gained before the holiday (and speaking of gained....) so no matter what I signed up for, it was going to kick my ass.  

And it did.

Next I went to meet the husband at a job we are doing for friends. When he left this morning it was so sweet..."oh you should really come to the job when you're done with yoga, say hi, see me for a minute blah sweet blah" I'm no monster, I could never turn down such a request. 

He's clever, that one.

I found out when I got there that the underlying motive was for me to go get cash out of the ATM to pay our help. I'm sure the rest was true also, but again, day of loathsome tasks. 

I genuinely don't know why I hate this task so much. Could be because my Jeep is too tall and my arms are too short, so I have to half hang out of the window with the door open, windowsill all up in the armpit. Could be because he always needs a minimum of 4 times, sometimes more, the max you can pull with one transaction. And it never fails, as soon as I put the card in for the first transaction, a car pulls up in the line behind me. And then I'm that guy. Well, girl. Lady. Woman. Regardless

And I know what you're thinking. Just go withdraw from inside. All I can say about that is that I'm not on the account, but more so is that I have texted Dave multiple times asking what is taking him so long when he's withdrawing cash from the bank thinking something terrible must have happened because he has been gone a ridiculous amount of time.....it's and imperfect system either way.

So I come back to the job, hand full of cash and a heart filled with pride from being so helpful (and only the tiniest bit of resentment) and he tells me that since he didn't sign the title for the truck we bought (the reason for the aforementioned trucker food), I couldn't go to the clerk and recorder as I had planned. But hey, since I was in town, why didn't I just scoot on over to discount tire and get my tire sensor checked out, since it had been flashing at me for over a month, maybe shimmy on down to the car wash like he'd been asking me to do for maybe as long, and tap tap tap right over to get the oil changed. 

Palm. Face.

I don't know if this is upbringing or sheer laziness, but I positively loathe car chores. In my mind, aside from filtering through the hodge-podge pile of bizarre crap I manage to accumulate within my vehicle, I believe deep down in my core that any other aspect of car maintenance is a man's work. I've tried countless times too explain this to Dave, but he has yet to acquiesce to my petulance

Regardless. I scooted, I shimmied, and I tap tap tapped. Almost entirely so I wouldn't have to hear about it again until it snows, or the next 3000 miles, which ever comes first.

So by now, its 1:15.....in the afternoon. On one hand I'm all "yeah Thursday morning, I just made you my bitch!" On the other hand I'm thinking, yeesh, I've already done so much today. Can we call it good?!?!

Nope. I'm a reborn rock star, duh. Even if every moment isn't necessarily 'productive" (ie self care or creativity) it damn well had better be intentional and moving toward something I want......curse you vision board. 

So while this is definitely not moving me toward my yoga body (cough booty cough), nor do I believe it will get me closer to being the kind of photographer I aspire to, or that glorious Burberry trench coat I covet, I walked in my house and realized that we had been talking about taking down the Christmas stuff since.....well, Christmas. 

Again....not sure why I DREAD taking down the Christmas decorations. And I wish I could say it was sadness, that I hated the spirit of the season leaving and how magical and beautiful it all is....but that's not it. I actually kind of hate putting them up in the first place. A. Its a lot of work, for about 30 days of enjoyment. B.......no pretty much its just A. It's a lot of work, it's a lot of build up, and then it's just...over. Then it's more work.

And now.

Now.

I am making meatloaf.

I say it again. Meatloaf.

Shudder. 

Dave has been asking for meatloaf since we got married. Why, I can't fathom. My mother, and she will openly admit to this, spent years making her meatloaf closer and closer to the consistency of cat food so my dad would stop asking her to make it. When that woman has a goal, she flat achieves it. 

It should be noted, as I am writing this, I checked the 'dish' 15 minutes before it was supposed to be done and its burnt to a crispy fry. I think I'll serve it as if this what I intended it to taste like. Fingers crossed guys.

Mom, you're my hero.

The other bookend, in case you were wondering, is writing this post and enjoying a good wine (Not good like expensive. Good like tasty. For future reference, whenever I say good wine, I always mean good tasty. It's never good expensive) Oddly enough, or maybe not oddly at all, but after putting the first post 'out there', I have already started to look forward to writing and started looking around for what I am going to write for the day. 

So if you are still reading this, I want you to know, I am acutely aware that this is probably an obscenely long blog post. I haven't actually researched the amount of words you should use, or not use as it were, to keep your blog readers engaged. Nor do I know how many words are in this particular post. But I have a sneaking suspicion that I have exceeded it and it's too many. By a metric fork ton. And not only that, I bet you're also wondering what the eff my point is, other than kind of being a whiner.

I get that. I was wondering what it was too as I was writing.

So if I have to have a point, and it seems I do, only because I am writing to myself, is that one day doing a bunch of crap you really, really, reeeeaaaalllllllllyyy, don't want to do can be empowering. It made me feel productive and accomplished, in a menial task kind of way. It paved the way for more enjoyable and satisfying tasks tomorrow because all of this bull has been taken off my plate. (Minus the meatloaf decision. That may haunt me for quite some time) I don't know, I just feel satisfied, not deeply, but in a day to day kind of way, and ready to take on the world tomorrow.

And speaking of tomorrow, the goal is the 5:45 hot yoga class....not because I care to be hard core but because the next class is at 9 and I need to get done sooner rather than 9.

But don't be surprised if it ends up being the 6PM

I won't!  

My Christmas un-decoration chaos