#habit1

So, I’m at the point I get to every year where I attempt to plan my “ideal” summer.  I should explain that I am a teacher and, as such, get about two months every summer without having to work.  I go every through every school year pushing things off to the summer when I’ll have time and will, I imagine, be somehow magically more motivated and productive.  

Every summer, however, I have a whole litany of reasons why at least half the things I planned don’t end up happening.  The reasons range from getting a summer job, my sister having a baby, my best friend having a baby, rainy weather, ticks and mosquitoes, etc.  Whether these are are good reasons or not is debatable and, ultimately, not the point.  Too much builds up over the school year to conceivably do and complete in two months anyway.  

One of the things I have been trying to get better is to forgive myself for the little imperfections.  Forgive myself for eating cake at my nephew’s birthday party, forgive myself for not going to the gym the day my car broke down on my way to work, forgive myself for not rummaging through my bag downstairs for dental floss at 2am, forgive myself for falling asleep on the sofa until 2am, forgive myself for . . . well, you get my point.  

I once told someone not to apologize for being human (and thus imperfect and fallible), but I’m not always good at taking my own advice.  It’s ridiculous to expect perfection when I know it’s not going to happen and then beat myself up when it inevitably isn’t perfect.  It’s also ridiculous to procrastinate and put everything off until the summer.  

“What’s with all the blood? If you’re trying to hide it, you’re doing a terrible job, child. Better leave that to the professionals.”