A Prologue to Act 3

Last week, we had the garage doors replaced. Unfortunately, I do not have a before image of the indoor area. The previous doors did not have windows. Having them has made a huge difference.  It brings the room alive, and begs to be utilized. More importantly, the process required me to clear out an area for the installation. That meant throwing stuff out, and rethinking the space. There is an energy, filled with hope and possibilities, that comes from a major change. It can inspire further growth, if you take advantage of it, ride it through to its conclusion. Here is to the future.

It has been three weeks since my last post. Not a great start to Act 3 of this blog. That has been the story of my life: putting off tomorrow what can be done today. Actually, if it was merely a day, I would be far ahead of my current self. From the start, I was reluctant to walk, or get out of diapers. Then it seeped into other areas of my life. Writing a paper. Reading this book. Drafting that novel. Moving on from a broken friendship. Discovering the right one. And now this blog.

Nothing ever changes. Yet, things do. 

I did manage to graduate college, get married, buy a house, have children, secure a fourteen-year-long teaching career. Then, I became a co-leader of a Girl Scout troop, followed by five years volunteering at my daughters' dance studio. There I stage managed an annual production of the Nutcracker, made some friends, and built lots of props. Also, I started a blog. However, like my teaching job, the dance studio did not end well, though, both those chapters needed to close. Working hard, supporting the dreams of other men, who had no place for my own ideas and goals. was always a losing proposition. It was time for me to move on. It just did not need to be so ugly, nor abrupt.

Yet, things had to change. 

(I will save the topic of "clear, honest breaks vs worse ways to end a relationship" for another day. Actually, earlier today, I had just drafted four paragraphs discussing the "silent treatment". Deciding that it was too much for this post, I cut it from this online editor, and pasted it to my offline one. Perhaps, in the future I will reexamine that text and expand on it, turning it into a proper essay.)

So, here I am, on a Sunday afternoon, typing away at a project I started over five years ago, subject to a forty-seven-year-old habit, i.e., waiting until the last minute. Yep, last week, I turned forty-seven. That would have been worth writing about, except I am indifferent to celebrating my birthdays--a topic in-it-of-itself worthy of a few therapy sessions, and a post.

Yet, old habits do die.

This morning, I woke up early, fed the cats, cleared the sink, took a shower, and got changed. Then, at nine in the morning, my youngest and I headed to the grocery store. That is a new one for me. For years now, Monday mornings have been my big shopping day. These past few weeks, I have changed it up, and I am liking it. First, it frees up my Mondays, which I consider to be the first day of a new week. Grocery shopping is a chore, and I have decided I do not want to start the week off with a chore. Now,  come Monday morning, I am physically and emotionally ready for something new. Second, Sundays have been empty days, and Saturday mornings already have an assignment: laundry. There is a nice rhythm to having both slots filled with something necessary, but mundane. that can be completed before noon. In addition, working first thing in the morning is motivating, for me. It inspires further actions. Like, drafting a blog post, which I began after unpacking the groceries today. It is also reassuring, for when I blow off the rest of the day. Weekends do not seem like a waste when I have completed a major task like laundry and grocery shopping. Third, Sundays mornings are traffic and exercise free. When I shopped on Mondays, I could not leave too early, lest I run into buses. Also, it is a workout day. So, I could not leave until after ten o'clock. The drive alone is a forty-minute roundtrip--another topic for a future post, I guess. Then factor in at least thirty minutes traversing the store and checking out (thank god for those scanners that allow me to register my items and pack them away as I shop--I put off using them for way too long). The change of days is a no-brainer. Fourth, I now have a shopping buddy, my youngest daughter. In the summer, and during breaks, she is beside me, scanning the items, and keeping me from indulging in too many sweets. And when we get home, she is there to remove the bags from the car. and put the seltzers in the basement fridge. She knows better than to put the other stuff away--the kitchen is Daddy's office space, and everything has its place. But outside of summer, she is a no-show (something about having to be in school). Now that I have moved my grocery shopping to Sundays, she can be there throughout the year.      

And, changing one habit can affect others, some times for the better.

We will see what tomorrow morning brings, whether it will be a more productive week when I am able to start Monday mornings shopping free. Who knows, I might draft a chapter for a novel. Or, draw a still life. Perhaps put a resume together. Build a piece of furniture. Maybe, even, topple a tyrannical government. For now, I will accept anything that keeps my creativity going.

Like writing another blog post.