I spent many years hating Sundays. I would get sad, knowing that the rat race of the work week loomed ahead. I've done a lot to tackle that weekly bout of depression, including changing jobs (Hallelujah!) and a couple of years of doing nothing on Sundays.
But skipping Sunday chores, while nice on Sundays, made Mondays miserable.
I suspect, however, that I have finally conquered the Sunday blues with a combination of careful planning, a small list of Sunday chores instead of a marathon of tasks, and starting with morning Mass and ending the day with relaxation.
Probably the most important part of the new Sunday routine is that, each night, I find something relaxing to do. Maybe I read a novel or go for a family walk. I find a way to connect with my husband, either over dinner or coffee. (Yesterday, he helped me color my hair. I'm not sure it was fun for him, but it was FUNNY, especially when a piece of hair flew across my eye and cheek and dyed my face brown.)
But planning is also a big part of it.
Instead of feeling like I have to do everything on Sunday, I make a list and do those things that make the most impact on a smooth week.
Yesterday, I did a lot of laundry. (I sort, wash, and fold. Kids put away.) I checked the school lunch menu and scheduled which days the boys get to bring lunches. I had the boys clean their rooms for inspection. I made a list of the chores that most need doing this week and scheduled them for later. I made my menu plan. I prepped my planner and launch spot for Monday morning.
Very few of the tasks that I completed on Sunday were actual housework chores. So, instead of being depressed, I sat in front of my computer with a mocha and did what I love - planning. But I was realistic and careful about making a plan that could succeed.
And so far, a few hours into Monday, Sunday planning is paying off.
I like big bags and I cannot lie. I couldn't resist.
But seriously, I never understand tiny little handbags.
If I'm going somewhere formal (in which case single women can certainly bring a little handbag), my husband's coat pockets are perfect for my lip gloss, inhaler, and cell phone. (He disagrees, but he doesn't really get a vote.) If I am going to the zoo, I do use a light cross body bag, but only if I don't have big enough pockets.
For any other purpose, including errands, work, or date nights, I carry a big bag. I used to carry smaller bags, but I realized that there were so many things that I needed with me. I was wasting time and money because I didn't have my meds, or a snack, or a book tucked in there.
Currently, I carry an Urban Expressions Zuma Tote in teal. I think it's only available is Pewter grey right now, though.
It's vegan leather, which is code for fake leather, but it feels and looks like leather, only it is much lighter in weight while remaining sturdy.
It has handles and, a requirement for me, a crossbody strap that can be removed. Mostly, due to how much I carry, I use the handles. But the crossbody strap comes in handy, especially if I am carrying anything else.
The key reason for carrying a big bag is that I am prepared for most things that can crop up in my life.
The outside zipper pocket holds my glasses, keys, and cell phone. Honestly, I mostly wear my glasses. I keep very little in the outside pocket, so that I never have to dig for the phone or keys.
Note the navy blue, flower patterned lining. I won't buy a bag with a black lining, since black makes everything disappear and get lost.
My bag also has three inside pockets. Two are unzippered and hold my easy access, occasional stuff - my inhaler and my lip gloss. The other is zippered and holds "sometimes" stuff, like my current nail polish in case of chips.
Of course, the main plus of a big bag is all the stuff that I can carry. Note that I don't carry all of this stuff every day. Instead, I look at my day the night before, when making my daily planner page, and decide then what I want to carry.
From purple wallet clockwise, I carry my wallet (with coupons and receipts filed neatly in it), sunflower seeds (for maintaining blood sugar levels), a water bottle (save the planet by not buying them), my Nook (only if there is a chance of free time), my planner, and two green mesh bags.
The bags are green so that they are easy to locate inside of the bag. (Any contrast color will do.) They are mesh so that I can see their contents.
The smaller bag carries my medical kit (including headache meds, which are a must have for me).
The larger bag carries everything else - makeup, hairbrush, mints.
Nothing runs amok in my purse. It's all corralled nicely in the purse and stored upright, so nothing sneaks to the bottom of the bag.
Summary of Big Bag Requirements:
*big enough to carry essentials for actual daily life
For two months, I've been working out most days of the week. I like walking with my girlfriends in the park and taking yoga or Pilates classes at the Y. I don't love using the machines at the Y, but at least they are hooked up to the TV.
But I'm stuck at home today (babysitting), I missed my workout yesterday (asthma issues), and I ate out for lunch and will again tonight for supper. I need to workout.
And, just in case I try to skip out, it's written in my planner.
Like most plannerds, I occasionally use a post-it or sticky note in my planner. Most notably, I use a sticky with my daily chores (such as laundry, dishes, 15 minutes of cleaning, and a sweep of the house for items out of place) to move from day to day on my daily pages.
But if I write something that will SURELY move, I also use a sticky.
For example, my list of things that I need my husband to take care of(in pic - green sticky, lower right hand corner, that starts @AMB) moves, because he rarely gets everything done within the week. Still, I need a list to follow-up (and note each time I send an e-mail or Facebook message to him about the tasks, so when he claims that I never told him, I can go "BOOYAH!" and avoid a fight win the fight). I also have a list of what to pack for a day trip on Saturday. That list will move and stick to the backpack that I plan to pack in on Friday night or Saturday morning.
The problem, as all true plannerds know, is that the sticky note covers a lot of the page.
So...
...fold the note.
A folded sticky folded so that I can still see the topic (as in the "blog idea" note in the lower left hand corner of the above pic) and know what is inside, but blocking MUCH LESS of the page.
I used to be a school teacher. Obviously, such a gig comes with a beautiful handwriting requirement. (Well, it did, pre-smart board era.) Actually, I always had a nice handwriting.
Here, let me translate.
"In college, I sold notes to other students. My handwriting was perfect."
Declining penmanship.
"Then I went to law school."
Awful penmanship.
"At least it's not dr. (sic) scribble."
(Doctors SHOULD be more careful. Lots of medical mistakes happen due to poor penmanship.) Penmanship actually matters more in your planner than handwriting. Seriously. Handwriting is just about your style. Penmanship is about readability.
My husband has atrocious handwriting. But he prints, and it is neat and easy to read. In my planner, I try to be aware of penmanship. I might use all caps for emphasis or print. I might be very fancy or very simple. But I make sure the words are readable.
Every now and then, in a rush, I scribble something thoughtlessly. It NEVER turns out well.
Call Jean? John? Jen? Jon? Josh? Jobs? Jinks? SEE?!? Never turns out well.
Take your time and write something that you can read in your planner or there is no point in writing it down. Practice. Slow down. Think about what you are writing and how you write it.
It started with a six year old child who demanded that I speak to him, at length, during the entire duration of carpool. Yes, that means BEFORE coffee. (He is my spawn, after all. I talk a lot. Just, you know, not before coffee.)
(Tell me that the corner on the wall in that picture doesn't bother your Type A!)
Then, during yoga class, I got really sick to my tummy. After spending some quality time in the bathroom in the YMCA (a feat that involved locking no less than 3 older ladies out of the only women's restroom for 15 minutes), I drove out of town to my great aunt's funeral. I was probably sick enough to miss it, but I had the honor of doing the second reading at Mass.
Parenting, yoga, and a Catholic Mass are all very Type B activities. Type B activities stress me out.
People (and by "people," I mean my Type B friends...you know who you are) tell me to relax and enjoy this special time with my little ones. And I do, truly. But I don't get enough sleep these days and I get bored with hours of talk of super heroes and Legos. I like the tone in my arms, legs, and core that I get from yoga. But I never close my eyes in class or focus on my breathing and clear my mind, as those things make me feel trapped and panicky. Mass is restoring for my soul, but my mind wanders. I never truly hear the the readings or the sermon. Instead, during Mass, I was busily outlining the final paragraphs of my current work memo, glancing at the crying great-grandkids (that first relative dying when you are ten years old is so difficult), and dutifully concentrating on getting the new, modern Mass responses correct. (We go to Mass almost every week. But my church has a cheat sheet that I, apparently, rely on very heavily instead of relearning the new responses.)
I feel weird writing this here, for two reasons. First, maybe I should go to confession about the Mass thing. Second, it doesn't, at first glance, seem to relate to this blog's main goal - order.
Only, it does...
I think, sometimes, that Type B people don't understand that for the planned, organized, overachieving Type A sort, Type B behaviors can hurt our psyches and our internal balance as much as our Type A behavior drives them crazy.
A typo in a memo? Makes my heart race and my red pen twitch.
Late for dinner (or, really, anything past 5 minutes early)? I get nervous and assume you hate me.
No schedule? No plan? No driving directions? No list?
I feel my brain try to turn inside out on itself.
So, on this Type B day, I compensate. I sip my coffee, even though it's too hot, while trying to convince my six year old to play rhyming games instead of imagination games. I make (and meet) mini-goals in yoga (and pointedly ignore the "close your eyes and relax" mantra). I memorize the Mass, challenge myself to sing in tune (which is pretty much not going to happen), and read the rules about non-Catholics and Communion at the back of the hymnal. (I have read the Catechism of the Catholic Church cover to cover... because I am Type A.) I check off all the Type B tasks as I complete them. I balance my discomfort with an afternoon diet of memo drafting, blogging, and grocery list making.
So, Type B friends, next time you find yourself wanting to tell me to relax, please realize that knowing my schedule, packing my bag for all eventualities, and having my planner with me at all times IS how I relax. Control of my life is how I achieve relaxed. I'll still do yoga, but only because Pilates class is not until 9:45, and that doesn't work with my schedule.
