Yesterday I had a lot of things I needed/wanted to do. Mail some packages for the mister who is out of town, go for a run, pick up a prescription, buy some groceries, make some refrigerator spicy pickles because I might have a problem, work on finishing/editing an essay I started last week, and try to come up with at least three ideas for essays that are not personal in nature, or at the very least don’t manage to veer into the realm of talking about my liver. It was a little overwhelming.
So I did what any normal person would do and spent a FULL HOUR designing a to do list using InDesign based on a pad of to do lists I saw at Staples. What. A. Moron. This is a classic Logan move, deflect what you need to do in favor of something that does not need to be done. A scrap of paper would have sufficed. But I saw that cute little pad the other day when we were searching for a large piece of flat cardboard in order to make a box for a weird shaped thing Derek was sending. I knew full well I didn’t need it, and I don’t regret not buying it, but I did like the way it was organized, so I took a photo, and then I used it as an excuse.
Here’s the thing, because of the way my brain works, it is important for me to work on creative projects that involve making things. This particular aptitude of mine is often satisfied by doing things like cooking, things I’m doing anyway, but sometimes I need to have a finished project I don’t shove in my mouth when it’s done. Making the to do list could qualify as a way to feed that particular aptitude. BUT, I have other things I actually need to make using InDesign (we’re trying to design running singlets for Derek and his friends that are liver focused.) and will likely be very pleased with once I figure it out, but instead I made a freaking to do list. (Feel free to download it here, though you should know it accommodates my tiny handwriting, and you may have to set your printer to shrink it a little if it doesn’t do borderless printing.)
Oh brain. You are such a handful. I am trying very hard to create new neural pathways, pathways that reward me for productivity that directly help me achieve the goals I’ve set out to accomplish, but then it pulls this old ass bullshit that’s been screwing me over my whole life. 40-ish year old neural pathways are deep and not super easy to alter.
I also tried to wake up yesterday at 6a to go swimming and then proceeded to talk myself out of it, and despite that decision making me feel bad about myself, I did the same thing this morning. Once I actually get my butt in the pool it will get a little easier, but because I took a hiatus I am apparently not in control of the situation. Again, neural pathways. Deep. Sigh.
Logan M. Shannon 