It’s Come to This

It’s come to this. Schedules and lists. I swear if someone doesn’t remind me to do even a simple task, like take out meat to defrost, I forget.

So, I’ve decided to try to be my own personal reminder. I do well, most of the time, with lists. I think I might do well with a schedule, too.

My list for this week is as follows:

Take GRE so that I can apply to graduate school.

Apply to graduate school, if I pass GRE. If I don’t pass, take it again when possible.

Have all my transcripts sent to the schools I apply to.

Write required essays for each school.

Let my professors know where to send their reference letters.

Exercise:

Mon, Wed, Fri – cardio

Mon, Wed – arms

Tues, Thurs – legs and abs

Food:

Every day: eat after workout each morning/afternoon (weird schedule) I wake – oatmeal or smoothie.

Every day: eat lunch – salad, sandwich, leftovers, just something healthy and somewhat filling

Every day: as always, eat dinner, just don’t overdo it.

Every day: eat snacks – healthy ones like carrot sticks, yogurt, fruit, sliced peppers, etc.

This is silly, I know. Who needs to be reminded to eat, right? Me. I don’t take care of myself like I should, so hopefully by putting this out in cyber world, it’ll hold me accountable until these things become second nature.

Are there things – besides groceries – you list or schedule?

But, what if I can’t?

Self-doubt serves no purpose other than to terrorize us. It is insatiable and determined. Doubt has the ability to make self-esteem, confidence, and progress run away in an attempt to escape its rampage. They never run fast enough.

Such are the inner workings of my self-doubt, anyway.

Doubt comes to judge the breadth of talent I possess, or lack thereof. It mocks the lines that I write, and characters and plots that I create. It only leaves when its damage has been done and its mission fulfilled – when I stop writing for fear I’m not good enough, creative enough, talented enough.

I keep meaning to continue my novel. It is important to me. I haven’t written anything in it since July. Although, yesterday I did reread bits of it and brainstormed some. I’m thinking of changing a major aspect of the story, thus far, but don’t know if it’d be better or worse to do so. I’m still in the contemplation stage. I should ask some of my writer friends for their inputs. If anyone understands Doubt, my fellow writers do.

So, I need to devise a plan of sorts. It helps me kick Doubt out the door and begin focusing on and enjoying writing again. The plan is to write for at least twenty minutes for my novel each day this week. It’s a tiny goal, really. I know. But, it’s a start. I hope that the twenty minutes turns into hours, but the vital thing is to start.

*Raises glass* Cheers to creativity, productivity, and enjoyment!

“What’s this?” said the muscle.

Today was Day One of exercise. Understandably, my muscles seem to be confused about what all the lifting and burning was. Poor muscles. Underworked and lazy. Time to get them toned and recognizable again.

I walked (with incline) on the treadmill for 20 minutes. Doesn’t seem like much, but at my weight (let’s not discuss it right now, as I don’t know exactly how much I weigh – don’t own a scale) it certainly is. My heart rate bounced right up and I was proud of myself for kicking laziness and procrastination aside to do something positive for my body and well-being.

Then, I worked out my arms. Two sets of ten for three of the exercises, two sets of fifteen for another, and then a side-to-side motion with weights in hand, twenty times each side. My arm muscles are asking me, “WTF, lady?”

My next workout will be tomorrow, where I attempt some leg and ab exercises. Wish me luck!

Now, onto reading and green tea.

Baby Steps, Right?

I made commitments for the new year. This year is going to be about getting ME on the track I want to be on. Eat healthier. Exercise more. Write. Read. Enjoy life. I’m going to do this by taking baby steps because I have found, time and time again, that taking huge strides always ends up in failure.

Today, I decided to start writing for pleasure again. Until tonight, I hadn’t written anything except essays and such for school, with occasional blog entries thrown in.

I knew I’d be rusty and that I’d need to get my mind thinking creatively again. So, instead of jumping right back into my work-in-progress (WIP), which is a novel, I decided to try a prompt on for size to see what I could muster.

The prompt is simple:

This is what I’ve come up with so far:

There were three of them. Three people comprised the Miles family. There was Lilian, the only female. She was the wife, the mother, and the owner of a successful bookstore. Then there was Clive, the husband, father, and ex-CEO of  Investments of the Future, a Fortune 500 company that specializes in helping those who wish to invest in stocks, bonds, real estate, 401K plans, and other financial options. Lastly, there was Spencer, the son, the straight A student who was about to reveal a huge secret to his parents.

Spencer’s face was unusually pale, his eyes wanting to connect with his parents’ but not quite being able to. His shoulders slouched, making his slender physique seem smaller, as if the weight of the world were weighing him down. Before Lilian could ask if he was okay, Spencer told his parents something they’d never forget.

“Cassie is pregnant.”

As Lilian and Clive tried to comprehend and digest what their son had just revealed, Spencer added, “I’m going to be a father.”

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Not the best thing I’ve ever written, but damn, it felt good to write again!

Share with me something you’ve done this year, for your own happiness and well-being.