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Anybody know any good discernment techniques to help decide which path to take? Jobs, change of address, etc. I feel kinda like I am trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. . . I have been calling myself, "An adolescent old lady." I don't feel so adolescent these days. All aboard the geezer train. . .
My 61st birthday is days away. I find myself rattling around Austin feeling more disconnected than ever. Hubs is the only thing I am sure I want here. Availability is a different question. Here in the homestead I feel an awful lot like another item on a busy man's spread sheet. Glimpses of the poet I fell in love with are usually viewed at 70 mph.
What kind of geezer do I want to be? The variants of Monster-in-law are not even remotely appealing. An ideal on a husbandly someday shelf is nicer, but. . . BORING!!!
The barge cook position is still in the hopper. So is the bee barge. At the moment, those are the extremes in my thoughts. From a modest, well defined position I can go off to and leave behind when my shift is done to a daring innovation which will consume every breath of my life and credit. There sure are allot of options between the extremes. It be allot to sort.
How 'bout it? Anybody know any good discernment techniques to help decide which path to take?
For now, I reckon I'll just get back to painting my green stripes. I am just about ready to declare the first section done and nearly ready to put the finishing touches on the main wall. Wax on wax off. Brush up brush down. Breathe in breathe out.
My 61st birthday is days away. I find myself rattling around Austin feeling more disconnected than ever. Hubs is the only thing I am sure I want here. Availability is a different question. Here in the homestead I feel an awful lot like another item on a busy man's spread sheet. Glimpses of the poet I fell in love with are usually viewed at 70 mph.
What kind of geezer do I want to be? The variants of Monster-in-law are not even remotely appealing. An ideal on a husbandly someday shelf is nicer, but. . . BORING!!!
The barge cook position is still in the hopper. So is the bee barge. At the moment, those are the extremes in my thoughts. From a modest, well defined position I can go off to and leave behind when my shift is done to a daring innovation which will consume every breath of my life and credit. There sure are allot of options between the extremes. It be allot to sort.
How 'bout it? Anybody know any good discernment techniques to help decide which path to take?
For now, I reckon I'll just get back to painting my green stripes. I am just about ready to declare the first section done and nearly ready to put the finishing touches on the main wall. Wax on wax off. Brush up brush down. Breathe in breathe out.
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I did the dumbest thing today. I charged my earbuds, unplugged the block and put the block in my little bag instead of the earbuds. I wasn't happy about that when I got to the gym. What a dummy!
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Ever since I stopped doing therapy because of insurance, I've been feeling that old tense and irritable sense of anxiety and stress. I hate that. I was making so many strides and changes during therapy, my therapist would acknowledge all of my progress and accomplishments, and I miss that reassurance. Today I thought about it, and I made those changes! She would always tell me that I chose to...
I also list every single option with variations, between extremes. Takes me forever (hence the dusting of shelves, sweeping of floors, etc. as I do this)... And it has an oddly cathartic effect for me. I organize my choices by all sorts of standards.
That said, not everyone is comforted by lists and being able to toss things onto our out of one. My periodic table approach is not for everyone.
My other method is the beat-the-crap-out-of-a-pillow method, after which I generally have a good ten minutes of emotion-free thinking from sheer exhaustion.
BTW, you can always tell your offspring: "Your children and their things are welcome here any time, as long as they need. You, however, need to find a place." A friend of ours did that to a daughter with children who was consistently using the parents for a safety net. Discovering they'd take her kids but not her? Eye-opener.
Random suggestion there to be ignored, but wtf, the universe has much random about it (or seemingly random)...
I am discerning little today. Apologies.
Paint on. Breathe.
Happy early birthday, arfie.
The stripe section is done. I am calling it, "The Carousel." Gently stimulating, but I think it will get headachy if I carry the theme any further. I have moved on to the "bill center" and hubby's writing/music section. I am alternating solid sections of the same color scheme on those walls.
Chew chew. Wax on, wax off. Roller left, roller right.
Sorry, got possessed briefly by an MGM movie musical.
Shall we dance
Dab, dab, dab
By the light of the color
Make romance
Dab, dab, dab
I have declared an inventory break in the painting schemes. The first three sections of the room are done enough that it is time to pause for an inventory of the new arrangements. The remaining section was the original bonus room. It is on a higher level and contains the bee hive inventory. Thinking shelves. . .
Hubs took yesterday and today off to make a four day weekend. Believe it or not, he is even opening himself to my discernment process and doing pretty well about letting it be bigger than his time off from work. I often wonder if he knows I keep right on breathing while he is busy making a name for himself.