Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Forget bra burning, I want to burn my pants

I hate pants. Seriously.  I hate pants.

If I didn't think the tenants of my apartment would band together to vote me out of the complex, I would pile all of my pants in the parking lot and set them on fire whilst dancing merrily around the flaming heap.

Ever since I had to stop shopping in the juniors section, my relationship with pants has been contentious. You see, back in MY day, the mall only had one or two stores worth shopping at as a teenager. Target had not yet turned itself into the clothes-shopping mecca it is now. Nope, all I had was the GAP and the Juniors section at Dillard's. Nary an American Eagle in sight.

In those dark days, I could never find a pair of pants that were the right length. In terms of height, I am not petite. But if you really look at me I'm all neck and torso, with my legs belonging to those of a woman three inches shorter and therefore in the petite realm. Because of this unfortunate proportioning, all of my pants were too long. Being 14, I never thought to take them to tailor so I just walked around on the heels until large holes were chewed through the backs.

Then low rise jeans were in style FOREVER and that was awful because of all the butt crack flashing. Even worse when skinny jeans came on the scene and everyone's legs have been suffocating ever since.

Then I got a little older and wider two separate times (once after Freshman year of college.  And once after I stopped working out for 2 years because of my ACL injury.)  And it's not just pudge from inactivity, hand to God I swear my bones have moved in an outwardly direction.

So as I sit at my desk, waist band pinching, or in the mornings when I shimmy into pair after pair looking for my that morning's Cinderella story, I often wonder why women ever fought for the right to wear pants. I mean, I get it, "don't tell me what I can and can't do." Now we have the right o wear them which is what's important. But given the choice, I'd pick a skirt any day. Unless of course that means I have to shave my legs. Ugh. There's just no winning.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Get Sh*t Done

I have a problem: I'm a world class procrastinator.  Additionally I'm very forgetful.  The combination of these two personality flaws makes it very hard for me to get anything done. When I actually remember something I need to do, I put it off and the rest of the time I forget it ever needed to be done in the first place.

And so my life is a swirling mess of confusion, late fees,  and never having any Ziploc bags cause I keep forgetting to buy them so I put my vitamins straight into my purse to take with my morning snack at work (cause you shouldn't take vitamins on an empty stomach apparently) and then I can never find them in the black hole that is my bag,  or I do find them but they are covered in purse fuzz and then I won't take them 'cause gross.  And I carry on being calcium deficient with a bag full of furry calcium chews. And surely this lackluster vitamin regimen means I'll have osteoporosis later in life cause LADIES did you know you only build bones until you're 35 and then you start losing bone density which means I've got to get as much calcium as I possibly can NOW NOW NOW.

You see? It's a disaster.

The good news is I have a solution: and as it is a two part problem, its a two part solution. To address my procrastination, I've eliminated my #1 go-to for time wasting, Facebook. To address my forgetfulness I've replaced my compulsive Facebook habit with compulsively checking my To-Do list on Google docs. I've tried using various mediums for to-do listing and I like using Google Docs best because its easily accessible wherever I am. I can get to it from my work computer, my home computer, and on my phone with the app. I've tried using paper lists but invariably I forget the list somewhere, rendering it useless.

For extra support in this endeavor, I've enlisted a friend to be my Get Sh*t Done Partner.  A GSD buddy is a like-minded friend with whom you exchange lists, encouragement, and whine to when you don't feel like doing anything but know you should. In other words you keep each other accountable. 

The method we've figured out is a little different from the referenced GSD partner article above.  In lieu of primarily texting, we create a weekly GSD list on Google Docs and share it with one another. Then throughout the week we send periodic text updates to one another or solicit encouragement to GET. SHIT. DONE. This works best for us because I'm two hours behind my GSD partner and she frequently has to work nights/weekends so our days often don't align.

Here's a snippet of this week's GSD list:

I like to have two categories, short term (meaning within that week) and long term aka "eventually"  for things I need to do but don't necessarily have to be done that week. My eventually list is much longer than what you see here, alas my iPhone screen is only so big. Currently my short term to-do list is relatively, well, short, so I might be promoting some of those "eventually" tasks to this week. Maybe. I realllly don't want to do my taxes...

We've been Getting Shit Done together for the last three weeks, making them perhaps the most productive weeks of my adult life.  She's hung up her gallery wall, I've opened up a Roth IRA, we've both been working out more. All around it's been an improvement in our lives.

Would you ever consider having a GSD partner? Do you already have one? I'm curious to know!

Saturday, May 9, 2015

When I think of my mom I think of...

Sun hats
Help with my math homework
Country music
The ocean
Lemon pepper chicken and an aversion to mayonnaise
Left handedness
Turkey sandwiches

When I think of my mom I think of unconditional love. Happy Mother's Day, Madre Mia!