“The Dog” Journal
Welcome to the Dog Journal, a blog where I periodically share my best finds for taming those puppies that gnaw at your planner.
Could be a quick time management tip, a smell-the-flowers moment, a comment overheard on the elevator. Whatever the inspiration, I hope you’ll blog right along with me by commenting and sharing your tips and stories for taming an overbooked life.
Ice-olation Wears Thin
Who, in an overbooked moment, has not imagined how WONDERFUL it would be to cocoon in a comfortable armchair, wrapped in a blanket, reading a good book?
“I could stay there forever!” I’ve thought.
And yet, when the opportunity arises – as it did this past week in the ice-covered hill that was our neighborhood – forever needed to end after about 24 hours.
First, there was the observation that a neighbor in her 70s (who apparently tolerates the cocoon for only a few hours) was skating toward her mailbox, arms flailing. She made it back with a few letters – hopefully not just bills.
“Ridiculous!” I muttered. And then found myself doing the same thing the very next morning. An irresistible itch had set in to escape the four walls.
By the time the sun came out on Thursday and did its sparkling, magical melt, I had learned something from the other side of an overbooked life. Solitude is delicious at first, but a little goes a long way with me.
What’s “True Grit”?
Whatever you think of the movie, the title is a thought-provoker. What is “true grit” anyway? Watching the perseverance of the pigtailed 14-year-old girl-woman who set out to avenge her father’s death, I marveled. What kind of woman negotiates a businessman four times her age to the ground and walks away with $325 in hard cash? Who charges across a river on horseback to catch up with a U.S. Marshal who’s broken his word? And the short answer is: someone who’s not only talented but possesses a depth of perseverance that drives her toward long-term goals. “Focus” was written all over the open countenance of Mattie Ross, and whether or not you believe revenge is a worthy goal, there’s no question that in the movie and in psychological studies of “grit,” focus over time is associated with success. Not a bad lesson in a world that promises a steady diet of distractions, quick fixes and smooth rides. Just love, by the way, that this gritty role model is a girl.
CELL PHONE BREAK: BLESSED PEACE
I never thought I’d experience an epiphany in a cell phone store. “Meltdown” was more the anticipated end.
With a dead Blackberry in hand after the two-year contract had expired, there were too many possibilities: (1) emergency surgery to replace a trackball that would move only up, not down;(2) assuming success, getting on the list Feb. 10 for an iPone that might not actually be available till April but would eventually allow me to order Chipotle for pick-up with a couple of clicks ; (3) grabbing the new Blackberry, not plagued by a trackball, that would be free if I remembered to send in the rebate form.
Perhaps it was the good timing – Blackberry death on a lazy afternoon – but I decided to ask myself a couple of questions that for me were so calm and rational I could not believe I was in a cell phone store: (1) Can I afford for this trackball to die -again- on a busier day? and (2) How much Chipotle do I actually eat? Headed toward option 3, I made a list of things to check before I left: (1) Does phone really ring? (2) Does it really get an e-mail? (3) Are the little icons in the right places? (4) Does the Browser return to the home I want it to return to (that is, not Verizon’s home page)? (5) Did the video card get transferred?
There were blips along the way – notably a defective phone that had to be reprogrammed – but all in all, it was a peaceful afternoon, one of the most pleasant in a long while. It was, of course, occasionally interrupted by thoughts of a call I needed to make, or a question I needed to Google, or an e-mail I needed to send — but could not, thanks to my out-of-action cell.
“Just shows how much I need the phone,” I remember thinking. Or, looking back, why the afternoon was more delightful than most.
Life Balance and Travel
Twenty days out of town since December 1, and I’m just recovering. How do people do this, regularly criss-crossing the country to see far-flung parents and children? For me, it was just an odd combination of training, funerals and nuptials. I cannot imagine a steady diet.
Despite my best efforts, which include buying myself a suitcase with a slot for a laptop, I steered four plastic bins onto the conveyor belt at every security point. And not once did I make it back home with all the hats, gloves, scarves and charger cords I left with. My personal worst was Baltimore, where I nearly left my laptop behind twice and saw my last glimpse of a black velvet beret.
My fellow travelers are not so disjointed. Some queue up at security in Bermuda shorts with nothing but a briefcase or a purse. I am awed. Like a golf course diplomat, I let them play through. And salute my good luck to be grounded…till a Florida friend says, “Come on down!” And immediately, I’m on Kayak.com to find a sweet deal, no matter how many stops it requires. Maybe I just need more practice.
