FEELING RIGHT AND FEELING WRONG

How many days in a row, or how often, do you have to do something before you can call it a habit and stop paying attention to it? I know, I can hear you all. "Whatever it is, we've heard it before." This quotidian accomplishment is the more-often-than-not leaving the kitchen all tidy and neat before bed. To be sure, it is not a daily task, like writing, but it is tending to happen. I am encouraged to think that when I, once and for all, finish moving in and put things in their final resting place, I might find it easier to keep up with the organization and housework.

Let's hear, (or drink, if appropriate) a round for the daily practice. I am encouraged to write, clean, and move gracelessly through another day.

I certainly didn't feel that last night. Some tetchy emotional/stress points were tetched and stressed yesterday. And besides finding inappropriate solace in white whine, I could not sleep until the wee hours were getting older. After tossing, turning, wrestling, and benadryl, I was able to sleep long enough to get through the day (and I didn't even forget to move the car on street-cleaning day!). Hours, however, were spent in that twilight of disquieted dreaming doze, waiting for the plunge into a good drool.

The better news is that I was able to obsess through the general miffiness and despair to get down to what is really wrong. And armed with that knowledge, I can see if I can adjust behavior, expectations, and all of that kind of good stuff.

My next feat of discipline is try to get to bed and to sleep at a better hour so that I can get up and enjoy the morning.

Here's a great/fun version of Van Morrison's Caravan. "Then we can get down to what is really wrong." That's where that reference came from.