Bag Lady

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At what point in my life did I turn into that woman who can't leave the house without toting 20 lbs of luggage with her? And what magic words do I need to utter to make this annoying phenomena disappear?

It's 6:39 AM. I'll be leaving the house at 7 and won't return until close to 8 PM tonight. To get me through the time away from home I am taking with me:

COMPUTER BAG:  Laptop, cord, daytimer, client projects, marketing material to read, pen and paper for creative scribbling

GYM BAG: Shoes, shorts, top, jog bra, socks, towel, headband, deodorant, face wipes, extra top to change into for drive home after workout

FOOD BAG: Frozen thingees that act like ice-cubes, protein shake, nuts, apple

GREEN GROCERY BAGS: Need to make a quick trip to Earth Fare so environmentally-friendly bags are joining me. Grocery list.

PURSE: Keys, wallet, sunglasses, business cards, lipstick, headband b/c it's raining and if the hair goes berserk I need a back-up option, gum, mints, cell phone

Other people make it out of their homes w/out teetering down the sidewalk with piles of stuff crammed under each arm and slung around the neck. I either need to lighten the load or hire a sherpa. 

Sheesh.

Do I Want A Job? Hmm...

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Last year, on a whim and recommendation from a friend, I applied for a job writing speeches and marketing copy for a university chancellor. However, after considering the hours of the job, the fact that the work was onsite, and that I had upcoming travel and other commitments, I excused myself from the interview process. Although I love working in a campus setting, I wasn't sure I could commit to the work on a long-range basis and didn't want to waste the university's time training me if I wasn't sure I would stick with it. 

The other day, I received an e-mail from the person at this university I'd been in contact with the last go around. "Are you still looking for employment?" asked the e-mail.

Huh. There's a thinker. As a freelancer,

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Quit Fighting Life

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I've made a decision to be happy. It's not a huge leap. As a rule, I'm a pretty upbeat-every-cloud-has-a-silver-lining-better-luck-tomorrow-it's-all-for-a-reason type gal. But I've been observing a tendency I have lately to, for lack of a better word, fight with life.

It's usually over small things. I need to run errands, cook dinner, sort through a mess of e-mails and suddenly I'm sighing and feeling drained and wishing the stupid task would just be over with so I can get on with what's REALLY important in life (whatever that may be). All this wishing the mundane details of life away is wasteful. It's the whole "putting off being happy until life is perfect" syndrome. They are always always always going to be petty details and boring tasks to deal with--why not approach them with a positive attitude?

It's been a mere 48-hours on my "Look at me, I am joy" campaign and it's going well. Instead of feeling harried and like I'm wasting time, I'm working on gratitude. So the dishwasher needs to be emptied. Yea--I have a dishwasher! I need to photocopy clips to send to an editor--I'll pet the cat while the copies are printing (versus my normal mode of standing over the printer snarling, "Run out of ink and I will END you.")

I did a quick journal entry the other day and ran through my favorite exercise of describing my perfect day. When I read it back I was astonished to realize that I pretty much described my days as they are now. Only, I wasn't having that "life is so perfect" feeling. So where's the disconnect? Future living. I'm so concerned over what I should be doing or what still needs to be done that I'm fighting a constant mental battle. Hurry, hurry, hurry seems to be the refrain running through my mind. And you know what? It's making me tired. 

So I'm giving it a go of realizing why each day is a perfect day. Lucky for me, I live with Blair, the god of eternal optimism who rolls out of bed each day at 4:30 AM proclaiming "It's going to be a great day!" Where my usual inclination is to smack him, maybe if I work hard I can join him. 

Just not at 4:30 AM. I'll be joyous more around 6.

Cheers,

Dena

Tales of a Recycling Loser

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So it's near the end of yoga class today and the talk turns to recycling. One woman states that for her family of 5 (including 3 teenagers), they produce about 2 large bags of garbage per month. I couldn't help myself. "Per month?" I blurted out. "Between Blair and I we produce 2 bags a week!"

Slowly heads turned my way as mouths fell open in horror. "What on earth are you throwing away?" asked someone.

I racked my brain. Just what was all that stuff in our kitchen trash can? Kitty poo wrapped in plastic bags. Used tissues. Some styrofoam packing from a new skillet we just bought. And paper towels.

"Paper towels?" asked everyone aghast. "You still use paper towels?"

At this point it was too late to lie. "Um, yes?" I said. "I clean countertops with them."

I may have committed a social faux paus from which I will never recover. Or not. The group was actually very kind and opened my eyes to the fact that I am missing a ton of recycling opportunities. Toilet paper rolls and tissue boxes? No more throwing away for me. Now they will get mashed in with the cereal and frozen food cartons in the recycling bin under our sink. I will begin to wean myself off paper towels and start using cloth rags to clean the counters. (Although this led to discussion about is it cheaper to wash and clean the rags or use paper towels. No one knew.) I may not go so far as to scrub the peanut butter jar out but then again, I might.

It's really going to be a matter of paying attention. The women admitted it can be a bit time consuming to try and wash and recycle everything that can be recycled, but I also think I could do a whole lot better without too much added effort on my part. I've been working out so I ought to be able to handle carrying that empty cardboard toilet paper roll to the recycling bin.

Does anyone have any recycling tips? Anything not obvious I maybe could be recycling?