I wasted today. Which is better than saying “I AM wasted today”, I suppose. However, it is still bad. I am too old to be wasting time. Frittering it away. Getting distracted (in fact, as an example, I am now thinking about fritters). Doing nothing when I should be doing something. Or, doing something but it is a something that is basically nothing in the guise of something, you know? Come Sunday evening, I am wracked with the guilt of procrastination and time wasted.
I promised myself I would ACHIEVE this weekend. I would write lists and tick them off. But all I succeeded in doing was ticking myself off with my inability to actually do anything. The worst part is, I didn’t sit around much at all. I am not a sitter. I am always very busy. VERY busy. Doing nothing much at all.
I usually find I become very motivated, around about 4 o’clock in the afternoon on a Sunday, when I suddenly realise that I have to go back to work tomorrow and I have had two days off where I could have, y’know, started that best-selling novel, created a Fortune-500 company, built a house or ended third world debt. I have high hopes for my weekends, but they often don’t pan out. Basically, because I myself fizzle out.
Now, I must admit, I am having trouble dealing with anything at the moment. I am weaning myself off my anti-depressants and I am finding it harder than I thought I would. Harder than I have let anyone around me know. I thought “Oh, it’s been two and a half years, I can come off them now! Piece of cake!” but it’s been a little trickier than that. And there was no cake. But, there’s been crying. Lots of crying. I’ve done that super ugly, blubbering kind of crying. I’ve yelled at people. I’ve had nightmares. I’ve been hyper and chatty one minute and then morose and downright jump-off-a-cliff depressed the next. But I persevere because I have to do it and I don’t want to be on this medication forever. And before you ask, yes this is being medically supervised and I am being sensible. It’s just that I am 41 years old and I need to be able to manage things and not hide behind a little happy pill. Plus, I need to cry every now and then. It’s a natural state for me and NOT doing it is weird. I just needed them to get me over the marriage-breaking-down hump and now I have to come back into the real world again.
Which has left me a little bit blue. Because the real world is a bit shit, to be honest. Pardon my language. People are mean and stuff is hard. So I get bogged down in the mean and the hard. I find it difficult to get up in the mornings, not just because I don’t want to go to work, but because I am actually sad. Mostly because I don’t want to go to work but also because I am floundering a little bit. I’m going through one of those “Who am I and what am I for?” stages. Which I probably should have gone through at age 18 or something but I was too busy being terrified of the world to even contemplate that I had some sort of place in it. In some ways, it is worse going through it now because I have less time to figure things out.
Which brings me back to wasting time. Some people are happy to waste time and don’t see it as actually WASTING TIME. People think the weekends are for chilling out and lazing about, watching TV and sitting around. I don’t. I always feel like I should be doing something constructive or at least making plans that would lead in that direction. More lists. Lists that will have ticks against them. So that when people ask (on Monday morning) “Hey, what did you get up to on the weekend?”, I can say, smugly, “Oh, I rendered the house, put in reticulation, baked 400 muffins for the local homeless shelter, adopted a litter of kittens, ran a marathon, painted my fence and knitted a tea cosy……” instead of answering “Um…not much. I did some ironing.” And let’s face it, even ironing is probably not happening in my house most weeks. Or months, to be fair. Do I even HAVE an iron?….
I wanted to create things this weekend. I wanted to have lots of blog posts ready and waiting to be written. I wanted to have projects on the go. I wanted to actually have some crafts on here, which would be nice, considering this is supposed to be a crafty kind of blog.
So, what did I achieve this weekend? Well, I caught up with my best friend, whom I haven’t seen since JULY (holy crap, that is three months ago!) and we set the world to rights and talked up a storm. I visited my Aunt. I visited my cousin and nieces. I went shopping for new bras (to go with the new boobs). I bought a pineapple/green apple/broccoli/mint drink which was SO DELICIOUS I bought another one today. I saw a movie with a friend and felt confused by it. I felt horribly guilty for saying no to said friend when she asked me to dog-sit for her over Christmas. I went to see my Mum. I pruned my garden and all the courtyards around my house, weeded and swept up leaves and junk in my yard. I dyed my hair so I no longer look like rapidly-ageing hag woman. I went to a little charity fete in my street and bought some more books. I tried eye-liner for the first time and decided I quite liked it.
So I did SOME things. I guess. And seeing friends and family is certainly not NOTHING. It’s actually very important. And nice. And soul-reparing. But now it is evening and I have to make dinner and get stuff ready for work tomorrow. But I wanted to make cards. That didn’t happen. I wanted to do some drawing. That didn’t happen. I wanted to tidy my craft room. That certainly didn’t happen and, frankly, I was kidding myself that it would. I wanted to write in my journal and finish off a collage I have been working on (well, “working on” is an overstatement…). None of those things occurred.
So, I guess I have to try again next weekend. I will write proper lists and endeavour to stick them (and not lose them). I will not be distracted by whatever it is that normally distracts me (usually involves tea or facebook or cheese) and I will achieve THINGS. Or, at least try to. Because time is running out. And I do not want to leave just a carbon footprint behind. I want to have been here for some sort of reason and purpose. Even if that purpose amounts to nothing more than writing a blog post on schedule, with actual useful stuff in it.
What do you hope to achieve on your weekends? Are you a procrastinator? Do you get distracted by things and wander off target, like me? Do you even have a target? How do you stay on target (if you do)? How do you gauge your achievements or do you simply think it’s enough to have gotten dressed every day?
Hope your weekend was exactly as you wanted it to be – busy, lazy, crazy, chilled or fulfilling, whatever makes you feel happy and content and not guilty 🙂