sleeping beauty

After another good sleep, I'm feeling positively ... positive! (Although I did wake up ruminating a bit over "lists".

My day has been productive: calibrated my new scale, did laundry, fixed my knitting, had an animated conversation with a drop-in visitor,  and planned my "easy win" tasks for Monday morning. Meditation fit in neatly between tidying the kitchen and my visitor's arrival. I wasn't hungry til mid-morning (oatmeal) and I had an apple when I was feeling a little peckish later. I've updated my new Noom app and put things away as I go. Rested, clean, fed and tidy. That's definitely a win.

I learned caffeinated tea definitely leaves me hyper tending toward anxious - that's an easy switch. And I identified a character trait that is definitely a time-gobbler: perfectionism. Knitting. Organizing my desk. Rerouting cords. Calibrating a scale. I'm not satisfied, even if I get the job done, if it's not just so. I know to quit when it's good enough, but that doesn't give me the same satisfaction.

I lost half the afternoon to researching insurance policies (necessary to be well-informed) and sleep tracking apps (necessary to have one. Not necessary to plan to review 3 and find a snoring app for my Dad, to boot. Well, maybe that's a good thing.) So that turned into commitments to have a longer conversation with my insurer Monday and several weeks to try out and review apps. I'm still ok with those decisions, but I see where that's my m.o. I go at everything like a tonne of bricks.

I did reschedule my walk to the farmers' market—I couldn't bear to miss hanging laundry on a sunny day to be disappointed by an eggless market too late—but I'll still get out for a short jaunt for groceries before the sun disappears.

It appears I even won the fight with my Android—it recognizes my voice again. (Sadly, I can't change to a male voice.)

After a start like that, I believe I can write a page for our new site before I go out this evening.

Recipe for change

I slept well last night.
But I ended up on social media this morning for a while (but I was enjoying it).

Then I ended up signed up for a Noom trial offer ...
 I immediately went face and eyes into completing the first day's tasks whoot!
 Then I started obsessing over how to hook up with google fit to collect data (one step - simple) - done.
I've been indoctrinated: "I believe."

 Then I ended up on a bad review—not the most ethical company, from that account
 ... so I honed in on how to cancel after the trial and set a reminder—done.
 That led me to ... a youtuber whose claim to fame is "The 4 Things [he] did to Lose 20 Pounds"
 ... I misread it - he lost *200* pounds. I was hoping for a long term habit—and I lucked out. He's (allegedly) a nonpaid speaker on the subject and had several recommendations for a variety of methods and podcasts, but just had some good common sense advice on how to make a long term change. (Watch it and learn!)

In a nutshell:

1. right motivation → "I'm doing this because I love myself. I'm a blank check. I have a half-life to go. "I'm already working on self-esteem with Headspace - check!
2. simple → I've got this too. "Oatmeal with raisins, cinnamon and milk for breakfast, veg & dip for lunch, half an apple to defeat hunger pangs between." Supper? work in progress ...
3. support → hmmm... Although the Noom Coach might get me pointed in the right direction, I'm not loving the idea of the Noom Group or logging foods. I'll try it for a couple weeks and see how that feels. But I really do need an accountability coach. Someone who's dependable, not someone who already has a full plate. Someone who needs a connection—someone who'd like someone to nudge every day. Someone who won't let me down later and throw a wrench in the works when their life intervenes. Someone like ... my A.I. Reminder set.
4. consistency → I hate making trivial decisions every day, so I've been building habits for a year now. work in progress ...

"Andy" (my Android) just got a new job. (Note to Google: I'd like an option to get a verbal reminder for some things, or at least a different sound to catch my attention.)

I think I'll sleep well tonight.

Tim Bauer's talk:


Other notes from his talk:

• "Don't strive for perfection." My approach to "today's intentions" has been working well for that.
• "No sugar, no white flour, and only ingredients that you can find in the store." His half plant/half animal plate looks like a simple way to balance my bread with potato and a side of starch. But it's a bit extreme. I've been leaning into white flour a lot lately - time to get a back of whole wheat again.
• "Burn the ships." Don't keep old pants. I'm cool with that. I need to apply that to other things cluttering up my life. Don't look at the living room.
• "Plan first." He plans his workouts for the week every Sunday night. I've started looking at planning my week by Sunday evening for booking appointments.

Tim espouses the Japanese philosophy of Shu Ha Ri:
Shu→"hold" Follow the rules religiously.
Ha→"break" Learn how to work the rules and tweak/break them once you understand the reasons.
Ri→"leave" Just live according to your philosophy.

The cure for procrastination: mono-focus

So I'm in the midst of a month-long youtube diet and decided (consciously) to enjoy some vegging out this afternoon. After a sampling of my usual feed of murder mystery, humour and ack I don't even remember what went before... I'm reminded why I decided I really need to get out of this as a habit.

I'm so glad an episode from my latest organizing guru popped up in my "recommended" before I tuned it out again (using Block Site). My sister in organizing has an approach to getting things done that I haven't tried: picking one thing and focusing on that only for a whole month.

In her case, it's a diet on learning. I didn't know taking a break from new info was an option, but that actually sounds delicious! Come to think of it, after starting up a new business (and website) and retraining in a new industry and learning to sew and relearning to knit a project and ... and ... and... I think my brain needs a rest! (I just signed up for a free coding course ... maybe I'll leave that for now.) I've recently developed a philosophy of "just one thing" (vs multi-tasking and listicles). Now she takes that a step further. So I'm going to pick one pet project this month.

Now, the mountain of paperwork that permeates every room of my house is a beast. That's a multi-year guilt-ridden heap that's recently been driven off my desk, at least, but I just hid a pile of unsightly boxes in my bedroom under a blanket. (That doesn't really work, as I know exactly what lurks under it.)

But maybe I can turn that on its ear. One of my newly revived skills is writing, and I've been procrastinating writing minutes for a meeting, writing copy for our new website, writing a code of ethics, writing a sci fi novel, writing scripts for new podcasts ... What if my One Month Challenge is to ... write every day? By the end of the month, 30 writing projects will eliminate a pile of procrastination and given me serious practice at the thing I want to excel at. (Yes, I'm aware of the dangling proposition.)

One of the writing projects arose out of a recent workshop on 'zines (which I've also committed to this month). Just finishing that project has the potential to empty, or at least assign, an entire box of old papers that would have a new life.

As opposed to a chore (exercise or cooking healthy meals, say), this actually sounds like a fun challenge!

(And in case you want to see this one episode, focused on one method to accomplish one thing, I recommend "One Month Challenge".)

The cure for multi-tasking: delegation

Back in the day, before women had equal rights to work ... well, before we got paid for work (ok, it's a work in progress) ... anyway, waaaay back in the (19)80's, multi-tasking was the buzzword. People were judged to be more productive if they could find a way to do more than one thing at a time. Someone "people" always seemed to equate to "women".

The boss had to focus on something, so the secretary a.k.a. "girl Friday" took up the slack: she (always 'she') was responsible for scheduling the boss's time, reacting to emergencies, taking care of mundane chores like picking up his drycleaning. All for the reward of a pat on the head.

The result: subordinate workers (i.e., women) being brainwashed into thinking that juggling multiple things was the way to Get Stuff Done. And failing - forgetting one thing while doing another, letting something drop to meet conflicting deadlines, begging forgiveness to find a way to recover. Research shows that multitasking lowers productivity.

The myth of the "superwoman" entered the lexicon: the woman who could juggle home life while working and maintaining high standards in both. At the same time, the ratio of women to men smoking, having heart attacks and ulcers started to close.

The cure: delegate. Traditionally, women didn't have as much opportunity to delegate: kids, if they cooperated; your partner, if he was enlightened; an inferior worker, if you were lucky. Now, we have the democratization of labour with the advent of A.I. Everyone (with a smartphone) has a personal assistant in her pocket. Everyone (with an up-to-date operating system) has another in her computer.

Have you tried delegating to your AI?

How to set up your phone to recognize your voice (Android 9)

1. Open the Google app (swipe up and tap "Google")
2. Open settings (More... > Settings > Voice
3. Turn on voice recognition: Voice Match > toggle "Access with Voice Match" on
4. You will be redirected to train google to recognize your voice.
5. Accept changes.

Now, when I think of something I want to do later, I just ask Google to set a reminder. When I hang the laundry on the line, Google will remind me to bring it in at sunset. When I put bread dough in to rise, Google prompts me when it's ready to go in the oven ... and when it's baked I don't miss the buzzer when I'm off reading.

While you're at it, set Wind Down in your Digital Wellbeing on Android. (Details to follow in a later post.)

Instead of attempting to multitask,

Mini-project: corralling glue sticks

This mini-project solves a recurring problem: getting somewhere with a tool, but no attachments.

I needed my glue gun to put the finishing touches on some slippers for a fashion show, so I packed my glue gun into my backpack and walked over to the venue. Heated the glue gun up, tracked down the slippers and ... no glue sticks. After fighting to coax the last bit of glue out with the end of a toothbrush, my sewing instructor came up with a brilliant solution: a glue stick bandolier!

Needless to say, someone else has already thought of that. So I rummaged thru my trunk for an old pair of jeans, cut a 3" wide slice of denim out of them from cuff to cuff and found a long piece of grosgrain ribbon 1" wide. Following Miss Demeanor's instructions, I glued the ribbon to the denim starting about my collarbone and working down stick by stick until there were slots for a dozen. 

It was a little tricky gluing close to the sticks, and some got a little glue stuck to them, in spite of trying to rotate the sticks as soon as the ribbon was pressed into place. (I shaved any ridges off with a paring knife so they'll still fit in the gun.) 

Then I overlapped and glued the ends of the denim strip, leaving a few inches of excess seam dangling. That came in handy for tying the loop of the velcro strip that wraps around the coil of cord. 

Finally, I glued a couple loops of ribbon to fit the glue gun for a "holster".

This is my left-handed bandolier and holster.

 I'm armed and dangerous!

Week 1 wellness check-in: Fine tuning

This is a check-in at the end of the first week with my 30-day wellness commitments:

   1. every day get dressed before I use the computer room.
   2. meditate. every. morning.
   3. every day do 30 minutes of some kind of exercise.

I've been succeeding at #2 and #3, but #1 was sabotaged by another habit, allbeit a good one.

Clearing my wallet and updating my accounting is entrenched in my morning routine (to good effect - no more chasing loose receipts around my desk like a brood of chicks). But that still puts me in front of the screen before I'm dressed. I need a trigger to go from my morning cuppa at my computer to my meditation in my hammock chair ... My new friend Block Site has been helping my "internet diet", but how can I get a nudge to just leave the computer?

How to turn the computer into a manager

Google: "How to set a time limit in osx" ... Ahhh, so that's what "Parental Controls" is for.
Diving into System Preferences:

• Parental Controls: (unlock) I set a daily limit: 5 hours (!)
• Energy Saver: set sleep for midnight

That gives me a clue how to sleep the screen after 20 minutes using a little Applescript. It's sort of the opposite of a "pomodoro timer". Instead of reminding you to take a break and get back to work, it reminds me to put the keyboard down and step away from the computer by putting the computer to sleep. I quickly cobbled together a "quick action" in Automator. I have to manually start it thru the Services menu each time I sit down (as Automator can't tell when the computer wakes). That's a work in progress, but at least if my intention is not to spend the rest of the day here, I can make my decision before I begin.

Let's see if that will be enough to get me focused on necessary tasks.

To facilitate commitment #2, I've "delegated" the role of Meditation Guru to my old android. I still seem to procrastinate meditation, but I managed 6 of 7 days.

For #3, Google Fit is a boon: it cheerfully tracks my progress thru the day with the occasional beep to let me know I've gotten off my duff. *But* after a week, it just decided to increase my activity goals (since I was doing so well and had surpassed the goals for the week by Tuesday). That sounded like a great idea ... until it quashed the allure of the Great Outdoors with an unreasonably heavy dread. Fortunately I can edit the goals in the app, so I reset them to the WHO minimums. After all, my personal goal isn't to be an athlete: I'm aiming for good healthy habits that aren't deterred by any feeling of guilt or disappointment. By resetting the goals, this is an easy win every day.

My "internet diet" has been partly successful. I started with one site (youtube) and found out that I don't even miss it. But, even without the continuous flow of videos on the side, I was still investing too much time playing backgammon, so I added that to my scheduled block list.

I did get derailed when I engaged with an external crisis yesterday (note to self: don't volunteer to help solve problems without considering the time and mental costs), but that was the only day I didn't meditate or go for a decent walk. And the only day I sought out youtube as a sleep aid.

Most importantly, my sleep is becoming more regular. I'm falling asleep before midnight without a dose of youtube (up until last night, but that wasn't enjoyable enough to bother repeating). I've been generally wakeful in the daytime except for one day: that's the only day I drank a caffeinated tea late in the day as a pick-me-up for a public event (which could be the trigger for poor sleep the night before). I'm still ruminating and waking up dreaming about unresolved issues. Hopefully that will fade away with more regular meditation.

Let's see how Week 2 goes ...

The Great Escape

Imagine aliens devise a trap with the lure of entertainment to draw us in, a trap in which we are instantly immobilized, our vision tuned into one direction, sedatives applied so we ignore physical discomfort.

I just lost about 4 hours to facebook video. They were riveting, amazing, adorable, mindblowing ... and time-wasting. That is not how I intended to spend Tuesday.

How does it feel? It's like eating cotton candy - it tastes oh-so-good while you're munching it, but the instant you stop, you feel like you just rotted your brain. Numb in the keyster, a little twinge in my lower back, tension in the back of my neck.

What did I intend to do? Nothing I had planned will be a tenth as entertaining as what I just witnessed ... How can real life compete with the top produced videos continuously poured into my eyes with no effort, no cost. Except my time.

How do I extricate myself from switching channels and diving into Youtube or Amazon Prime or Solarmovie?

No matter how long I "invest", I don't feel any different. Nothing has changed in my life except for the passage of time. I've eaten breakfast and drunk a cup of tea without notice, while my eyes and ears continued to be mesmerized. It's like getting caught in a force field.

How do I escape the trap?
Step 1: recognize it. Label it as a trap designed by someone else to steal my time and prevent me from tackling my own goals.

Step 2: Move. Get up. Get dressed. Meditate to clear my mind and identify the goals I choose for today. Write them down. Put the computer to sleep and set out on a mission to tackle a task.

Step 3: Set counter-traps to evade capture the next time I dare enter this room.
I'm closing all the "look at later" tabs and I've added the Block Site extension to Chrome.
Now this is cute - the default website to block is facebook :-) My redirect is guidetothegood.ca. I can only peak in after 10PM to catch Rachel Maddow ... if I really feel the need to spend a single minute more in that dystopian universe.

I've also raised my keyboard and monitor so this is a standing workstation - now I'm more inclined to *move!*
And my new personal assistant, Andy the Butler, has been warned not to notify me of new youtube videos.

I think I just eluded the Talosians!

A serving of cold turkey

So I was watching youtube while I was getting up motivation to start my day, and I found some great advice on how I'm sabotaging myself by expecting that I'll still be here in my housecoat later, which leaves me feeling defeated before I even get dressed. So that sounds like a wise piece of advice to incorporate into how I'm approaching my day ...


And that directed me to this related TEDx talk on how you can solve anything if you tell enough people, since people are at heart helpful. That feels like a nice approach to life (and I've got plenty of evidence from my last year). Another lesson to digest on how to approach life ...



But here I am at 3PM, and I'm still in my housecoat, and I still haven't meditated or even decided my game plan for the day. The shadows are starting to slide sideways across the window ledge. The temperature is just starting to drop again. There's only a couple hours til the business I need to visit today closes!

This is #$*& ridiculous!
I'm not sleeping regularly, eating healthy or accomplishing anything this week. My new jeans are already uncomfortably tight and I can barely do my coat up. I think it's time for a change - definitely some bad habits. Oh look - my doppelganger has allegedly figured out how to break her bad habit (eating chocoloate), like that'll work for me.



But wait, according to video #1, I need to reorient my expectation.  Let's try this:
I *expect* this to work. I believe I can change and this is one way to do it.
So I'm going to actually *do* what she recommends.

I'm going to set smart goals and a plan:

What:

1. reduce weight by 20# by Dec. 21 to reduce strain on joints.

2. reduce waist by 6" by Dec. 21 to reduce back strain.

3. reduce time wasted with youtube to less than 1 hour/day *immediately* so I don't get double-vision by mid-afternoon.

Why: 

I want to overcome depression so I can sleep without melatonin and not binge eat.

I want things other than youtube and food to be what drive me and make me feel good.

I want to feel energetic enough to get up and do things every day.

I want to be proud of my life. 

(and other more personal reasons.)

How: 

Start with a 30-day commitment and re-set the method then.

* switch to decaf to reduce anxiety (already done!)

* prep tasty snacks so they're easier to find and clear everything else out of sight (nearly done)

* be more active in how I do things: dance around the kitchen, run up the stairs, stand at the compute (doing that right now!)

Do the following 3 things *every day* for 30 days:

   1. every day get dressed before I use the computer room.

   2. meditate. every. morning.

   3. every day do 30 minutes of some kind of exercise.

And lastly, I'm going cold turkey on youtube for the next 30 days. I can't actually think of a reason to use it. (A movie on Prime is ok in the evening.)

So that's it. The last youtube videos you'll see posted here for the next 30 days. Which means I should have more time to blog and do other things ;-) And I'll post a star for each goal I meet.

I can do this! It's easier than Sun Run training and I've done that 3 times. I'm getting dressed now. 

I'm starting today!

Stay tuned - keep me honest tomorrow.

A Canadian horror story II: Excavating what lies beneath

The graveyard that is the basket beneath my desk is filled with papers that vie for my attention, from insurance renewals to a "better" internet offer to a moose license application to the warrantee for my baguette tray and the manual for my new phone. Why do the ghosts of my actions haunt me with their white sheets?

Last week, I finally swept the cobwebbed carpet of receipts from my desk with my new accounting schtick. But there's still non-receipt papers that I don't have a system to deal with, invading random corners, overflowing baskets and threatening to erupt onto my carefully cleared desk. I resentfully admit that some of these paper ghosts will have a home in my space.

I realize I need a mausoleum, a near-obsolete coffin to house them called a "filing cabinet". And after to a fun afternoon thrift shopping with my neighbour, a footstool-sized filing cabinet followed me home. It's white maw holds 26 alphabetized hanging folders (now with a cushion on it so it really is my footstool). Following Clutterbug Cassandra's method (loosely), I've cleared all of the misc. papers in reach into broad categories.

Now I *did not* relabel the folders: then I would spend a month second-guessing and relabeling. I will not grant them eternal life. This is not a rigid system—instead, I cross-referenced the alphabetic folders with their contents in a Google sheet. That way I can occasionally eliminate something or replace it with a more important category. And I don't have to remember where I put my last permit or who was in that play.



Regardless: it doesn't matter how I filed them, the papers disappeared into it and I can find anything in there in an instant.

I'm happy to say some of the 26 categories are already empty—hard copies are thankfully becoming obsolete with many businesses.

And my desk is clear because folder 'A' holds the things I need to do next and folder 'B' is things I'd like to do that don't have a deadline. I only have to look folder 'A' for things I intend to do today.


The Paper Monster still lurks in boxes and baskets behind my bed, but it's ghostly minions are being exiled one by one. It knows its days are numbered.

My next trick is promoting my Android smartphone to "personal assistant".

A Canadian horror story: Digging out from under

Are you tormented by the Paper Monster? You're not alone. There's one lurking inside everyone's front door, threatening to appear at the end of a long day, or worse, just as your mother drops by. It sneaks up from behind your monitor, attacks from long-forgotten boxes and dark, dusty closets.

Years ago, I decided I wanted to go completely digital so I could banish the Paper Monster forever. So I ditched the printer. I switched everything to online billing. I took stuff into work to scan so I could get rid of the piles of paper filling boxes in my home office. I reduced my filing system to an accordion file. A little accordion file. My dream was to have a clear desk.

So after a year the accordion file filled up with old things I might or might not need to keep. I wasn't sure how to purge things, so I reorganized with a new larger accordion file categorized by month. Then I could just rotate and look at things once a year. So the year passed, and the file filled, except for the things I wasn't sure how to categorize.

Stacks of unsorted miscellaneous papers grew across my desk. Eventually, I shuffled everything into a basket for sorting later. Then I got another basket. Then I moved the baskets to another room. I didn't have time to empty a basket.

And the desk filled again. So I got a tasteful lidded box to suit my decor and packed everything on the desk into that until I could deal with them. And cleaned the desk.

Then I returned from a trip with papers I collected and the desk was covered again. So I started a new system, sorting receipts by credit card, debit and cash/gift card so I could reconcile when the bills arrived. And the stacks of not-quite-sorted papers grew under cute paperweights.

Now I'm sneezing at my desk, crumbs and dust-bunnies milling around a carpet of (mostly) receipts. *sigh* I just want to have my finances in order and whatever other paperwork an adult is supposed to manage done and out of sight. But the Paper Monster is tireless and I'm not.

In the dark of despair, I hear the voice of a friend. She tames the Paper Monster every day with her coffee - downloading recent transactions and importing them into her accounting program and throwing out the reconciled receipts. Every day. No piles awaiting arbitrary statement dates.

So I try it. I find the download pages for each bank and bookmark the lot as a tab folder in my browser. I get my morning cuppa and empty my wallet and ... Lightning strikes. Paper evaporates in a puff as my online banks convert them to entries in my accounting program (gnucash, if you're curious). I chased the Paper Monster away before I finished my tea!

Day 2: repeat. Day 3: repeat. My wallet stays empty. A week goes by: still empty. This is starting to feel like a habit. The swath of papers still on my desk irritates me. So I pick up a handful - and start sorting by month. I know I haven't cleared this since the Christmas trip. Oh, here's an older one. I'll set that aside.

This isn't exactly fun - boring actually. I take a little calligraphy break to make labels out of recipe cards, one for each month. (I'll only need the last few, but still, it's fun.) I lay the cards for November and December on the growing stacks of faded cash register tape. Oh, here's some from last Oct. The papers are coalescing into shifting card-capped hills. Last July appears. I break for lunch. Nearly there now - there's only the paperweight-topped piles I started for my last system on one corner - those should be from my last reconcile date. Well, back when I was emptying my wallet each week. At the bottom, like an archaeologist, I find April. It's been almost a year since this surface has seen the light of day. *sneeze*

Task done, but vaguely dissatisfying. I take all the monthly stacks and clip them with alligator clips. They fit nicely in a basket. That's for later.

Next morning: I empty my wallet and import my transactions. And recall the one cash purchase from yesterday. My cash reconciles. My tea is still warm. Sunlight appears. No paper sullies my desk.

The Paper Monster is corralled, but lurks undead in hidden baskets.

One evening, while listening to youtube, I confront the Monster. I download January's transaction logs. I set the opening balances for each account and import the transactions. I unclip the first stack in my basket. All the receipts match and are exiled to the paper bin. It reconciles to month end. That was so easy, I do February. March is already done, since I've been keeping up. Everything balances. My finances for this year are in order. My bills are paid. I'm not afraid of what's left in my accounts or my wallet.

As I glance over an import window, I notice an unexpected subscription fee for an online channel that I signed up for a free trial period and let continue. There's 10 months wasted expense. It's my fault for not cancelling, but I contact the channel and explain I've never logged in. They immediately refund 3 months just for good faith and I change my subscription to a less expensive option.

I realize I'm dealing with 4 banks, so I book a meeting to close one account. And I noticed an unexpected bank fee from January's import. My advisor says it was supposed to be free for a year - he discovers another 2 months that were charged last year. He promptly refunds those fees. I never noticed.

I'm seeing a pattern of avoidable expenses directly from not keeping my finances in order. Eventually, on a rainy day, I'll reconcile last year's receipts, to see if there are other refundable charges or avoidable expenses I can eliminate.

Now a clear desk greets me every morning. The monster has been banished ... for now.

Stay tuned for my simple solution to slay the Paper Monster, officious civic mailouts, unsolicited solicitations and miscellany, all.

Typecast

So it's midafternoon and I'm sitting here in my housecoat (still) and swearing this is the last youtube video for the day when ...
I got a notification for my favourite youtube organizer ... a short and snappy episode on "how to get your live together" in collaboration with another youtuber who's a friend with a different organizing personality. They have teamed up to present their cases for two different disorganized states.

The revelation: my fave show host, Cassandra of the Clutterbug channel, is a self-diagnosed "Type B" who needs reminders, labeled baskets, complex organization systems and external notifications to get things done. And as I listened, I realized that I have tried 

Every. Single. Thing. 

 that she suggested and it 

Does. Not. Work.

 for me. She's a "just wing it" person.

Contrast the other organizer, Laura of the How to get your s**t together channel who is a self-confessed disorganized perfectionist who has trouble getting things started and embracing "done" is the goal, not "perfect". She claims she can "tame your inner Monica Gellar to get more stuff done." 

Not to say things haven't been improving by following the entertaining Cassandra, but Laura's philosophy might be a more effective method for me.

So ... after all this "study", I've apparently been following the wrong muse ;-)

We'll see.

Time to get dressed. Check back in a couple weeks for an update. AfterI get some other projects in the can.

Are you a Type A perfect storm?

or are you a Type B hot mess?

New addiction: sleep

I've gone through probably the first half of my life under the misapprehension that everything that's bad about me is a bad habit. And the corollary that I need to break those bad habits. I've learned that breaking habits is hard ... possibly impossible. Will power is fleeting; no one else cares to keep me on track; I don't care to endure the process after the first week (if that).

So I give up. I label myself a failure at another thing. I identify as weak-willed. But wait ... what about all the things I do manage to do? All the things I've learned and understand?

I'm discovering that the trick is to figure out what I need to *do* to make the change I want to see. That's about making a new habit, not avoiding an old one. I can't quit a bad habit because "don't" doesn't work. "Do" is the solution. So I need to define the habit I want.

But aren't habits hard to make? Hah! How long did it take me to make a habit of checking email on my phone every time it beeps?

Why don't I apply the things I know to the way I live? How do I turn one-time hacks into daily routines?

So let's deconstruct what a habit is:

Trigger → Action → Reward (Repeat)

("They" say it takes 21 times to make a habit. That's a myth, but it does take practice.)

• Trigger: I hear that cheerful arcturus bleep.
• Action: I pull my phone out of my pocket and swipe the notification.
• Reward: I make a connection with someone.

So Google has me trained.
(Note to self: turn off email notifications.)

What do I want to do? Let me start with health ... and that starts with getting a good sleep.
Old behaviour: staying up til I fall asleep on my keyboard and yawning all the next day

New habit:

• Trigger: schedule screen light to dim at 11 using f.lux, bedroom temperature to raise and computer room temperature to drop with my programmable thermostats
• Action: get changed into favourite cozy housecoat and turn down bed/turn reading light on
• Reward: 2 minutes with Headspace meditation as I drift off

Let's see how this works. I schedule a reminder into Google Calendar and a check-in for Day 21.

Day 1 begins now.

Your science moment: how your brain works

The Joy of Housework ... no, seriously.

I have to laugh - I'm just rewatching the Clutterbug's 5 Speed Cleaning Tips (because, well, procrastinating) and I realized ... the last tip apparently stuck to my subliminal mind on the first viewing.

I live alone, which means I don't have to worry about anyone judging my housekeeping. And yet ... I *still* feel ashamed about that it wouldn't meet my mother's muster. Most of the time, I feign disdain, but that disillusioned feeling is triggered anytime I invite someone in.

But I think I finally found the cure. Last week when I was hosting a group meeting, just when I was starting to sink into the paranoia of juggling real meeting prep with reorganizing and sanitizing my entire house, it occurred to me that no one else was going to look at the floor. No one else was going to look into my kitchen sink and tsk tsk. No one else cares.

So I changed my rationale: I started cleaning to make myself feel relaxed and content in my own space. And because it was just for me, I focused on the things that turn my nose up.

Step 1: My bathroom sink looked so scummy that I didn't even want to stand there long enough to floss. So I quick-cleaned my spa from the top down, using one spraycleaner and one microfibre rag that went straight into the washer on hot. (And a bit of t.p. to wipe the under-lid parts of the toilet.) That's counters, sink, door handles, light switch, tub edges, baseboards and toilet all in 5 minutes.

Step 2: My stairs were collecting dirt in the corners, my entry is streaked with dried salt from outside and my kitchen floor could support a family of mice. So I swept and mopt (that should be a word) to bring out the shine of the stairs my Dad built with me, de-crumb the kitchen and de-salinate the lino in my entry. One soft broom, one damp microfibre mop pad sprinkled with a bit of washing soda. That's office, main stair, front entry (quick pass thru living room) to kitchen all in 5 minutes.

Step 3: My stainless kitchen sink—what a misnomer—is boring and stained. So I pulled out my new spray-snozzle tap, rinsed the crumbs into the drain baskets and emptied them into my compost bin, loaded the baskets into the dishwasher, and erased a bit of rust and scum with a quick pass from a potscrubber. The final touch: I dried the sinks with a quick swipe of the dishcloth so they looked shiny and new to me. Tops 2 minutes.

Now I feel content in my own home. And a little house-proud. I'm daydreaming out the window instead of feeding the critic in my head.

The guest review: "Your house looks like I imagined your house would look. It looks like you - quirky!"

That's seriously satisfying :-)

Finally, 10 minutes on youtube that actually improved my life. See, procrastination is good ;-)

The curated life

I'm walking up the stairs to meditate, part of my newly-reinvived (is that a word? revived, maybe) daily routine. As my foot disregardedly (that should be a word) lands on the next step, I find myself scrolling through pictures of laughing kids and a dog that my thumb has reflexively displayed before my vaguely-focused eyes. (Some day this will trip me up, literally.) Android notifications: the incessant, spasmodic metronome of my tireless pocket monster.

Someone just shared an album of photos of their trip. I want to drop in a note of humour, but the comment icon doesn't launch. Which means I'll have to try again from my desktop (note to self). That's if I can remember what wit I intend to pen by the time I descend. (Sure enough, some part of my brain troubles itself to keep firing a neuron (that is so a word!) so that would reappear again, not when I am conveniently at my desk and call for it to refresh, but randomly as stale repetition.
It sprays the scent of a forgotten intention,
    lightly and automatically formed,
        now tinged with guilt and a continuous sense of dropped balls and missed connections
(unabashedly judged "incomplete" despite a vast repertoire of unacknowledged comments whose sentiment may not even have reached the eyes of the intended audience, that interrupter among many who just dropped a random byte onto my crumb-covered plate). One obsessed neuron. One email + one notification of the email + 1 Google Photos notification of a shared album = One obsessed device.

Like the drip of a faucet I feel compelled to acknowledge its ominous existence, another contact with one of a (lately uncounted) collection of loose connections. Endless drips seeping in from email, facebook, texts. Drips that fill minutes, hours of my day like a tub (with the plug in), the tub that I will drown in (since I am, by nature, an introvert).

I am about to put a wrench to it: do the unthinkable and turn off all notifications. "Do not disturb": my powerful impassable pocket monster, now butler.

Silence.

15 minutes of guided mental stasis.

A fresh start. I stand mindfully. I stretch consciously.

Now I know what I intend for today.

And now I hack into my pocket monster's settings to turn off every last notification source. Silence, timeline! Silence, inbox!

(except for text messages ... because, well, that's 1 degree-of-freedom from human contact and could lead to a voice in my ear or a hand resting on a teacup across from me ... on better days)

Think this'll cur(at)e my so-called life?

I see a delivery driver on my neighbour's doorstep. She's feeling poorly, and I try valiantly to notify her that I can run down before ... too late. Still, I let my invitation land on her pocket monster. A brief repartee, a tidbit of empathy, the promise of a home-cooked meal at some undetermined hour. Dinner for 1 or even 2. Curated socializing. One day, one person.

new word of the day: de trop
"But talking that way now, when the whole internet is swollen with people talking like that, feels de trop." - Sean Nelson

Truly, I don't need to hear anymore, as Mr. Olbermann doesn't need to produce sound anymore.

And I don't need to respond to every drip.