Yesterday was day 5 of the Honoring Achievements challenge.
The good days should be celebrated and honored, it’s true. The not-so-good days are the ones it’s harder to find joy in.
Saturday was an amazing day. Yesterday, for a hilarious variety of reasons primarily having to do with realizing the new season of “Anne with an E” is now available on Netflix, also was an amazing day.
On Saturday night, I congratulated my hard work and my successes with a cup of hot cocoa. This was not wise. Hot cocoa keeps me awake at night.
By some miracle, though, I was able to fall into a light, fitful sleep when I lay down, which is better than nothing. I would have been happy enough to content myself with it.
Not an hour later, I woke to the sounds of one of my cats puking up his whole dinner on my bedroom rug. Fabulous.
Got up, cleaned up the mess, had a helluva time falling back asleep, but ultimately dozed off again.
At 5 AM, said cat was frantically scratching at the bedroom door, whining for his breakfast. This is normal to some degree, but the ferocity of his endeavors was extreme, even for him. And it makes sense… he’d lost his dinner the night before, so he was famished.
I made my way into the kitchen, and there I found a lovely pile of very loose cat poop in the middle of my freshly cleaned kitchen floor.
And thus, my day began. It was not one that started off with much happiness.
I was tired from not sleeping well and from the physical effort exerted the day before. Plus, my period had started.
Overall, I was in a pretty shitty mood. Because of it, I took care of myself. I puttered. I didn’t do much.
The only task that desperately needed to get done was laundry, so I decided just doing that would be my aim. I vowed to do my best to get the laundry done, folded, and put away, and I’d consider the day a success if I made some degree of progress in that endeavor.
At around 2 PM, having exhausted all puttering desires, I set a timer for 20 minutes and tried to get myself motivated to get started. I put a load of laundry in the washing machine. I picked up around the house. I stripped the bed and got ready to put the sheets in with the next cycle. (This is a Big Deal. I’m terrible at washing my sheets as frequently as one probably should.)
But even then, I still had time to spare before the timer went off. I did all of that, while moving slowly and feeling crappy, and it hadn’t even been 20 minutes.
What more should I try to get done in the remaining time left?
I started putting together a donation pile. This started with unearthing the existing donation box from the bedroom floor on the far side of the bed where it never gets seen. I quickly realized that at some point, I started using this space as a “hiding spot” for clutter when guests were coming over.
All in all, I did seven 20-minute unf*cking sessions yesterday.
All told, by the end of the day I’d washed and folded 3 loads of laundry, put fresh sheets on my bed, gotten rid of the clutter from the hidden area of my bedroom floor, put away and disposed of All the Things as appropriate, and, finally, gathered together a bunch of items that need to be donated and set up a spot just inside the front door as a staging area.
And this was on a day when I was tired and feeling like crap. I’m ecstatic and feeling so proud of myself.
The trick, I found, was to not pressure myself to be fast or efficient. I didn’t move very quickly during each cycle. I didn’t have the skip in my step that I had the day before.
I succeeded in my efforts because I didn’t allow myself to dwell on the negative. I didn’t get anything done perfectly or quickly, and I had to be okay with that. I just kept moving, at whatever speed felt right in that moment. As a result, I got a ton more done than I ever would have in the past.
Ten-minute breaks didn’t happen, though. There were no ten-minute breaks for me yesterday. I did not do the 20/10 cycles of the day before.
Each of my breaks lasted the full length of an episode of “Anne with an E.”
During each break, I snuggled up with my cats and our darling, mischievous, wonderful Anne. After each episode, I got up (after drying my eyes and blowing my nose, of course) and was moderately productive for 20 minutes.
It was perfect. I feel like I had a gloriously indulgent lazy Sunday enjoying the last season of this show I love and will miss. And yet, I was also productive. I’m quite proud of how well I managed self-care with making progress in my unf*cking efforts.
However, the laundry didn’t get put away. Not all of it, anyway. There isn’t enough room for all of it in my dresser. Which leads nicely into my next big task…
Unfucking my bureau. I’m excited about my first big unfucking project and look forward to getting started on it this week. Possibly even today.
What did you do yesterday that you’re proud of?