Purity Made Simple

I have a huge box of expensive face soap from Nordstrom. It's been sitting in my "extra toiletries" container for a year now, mostly because as soon as I invested in the 32-oz bottle, the darn soap stopped working on my acne. But I spent a lot of time and money making sure I had a great face soap, so I really don't want to throw it out. Even though I can't use it. Of course, these things are cyclical. I might be able to use it in another month or two. You never know.

I'm having similar experiences with many parts of my life just now. For example, as soon as I announced that I actually had full time employment with the Foundation/Farm... they ran out of money to pay me. But I spent a lot of time, energy, and gas money making sure the Foundation and Farm were as functional as I could make them, and investing myself in the visions and goals they espoused. So even though they can't pay me, I'm having a hard time letting go. And you never know-- they might be able to pay me again in a few months...

The face soap says "We come into this world with all the right instincts... and the world at large is truly beautiful. It is at this time we feel most blessed." To return to this natural state of instinctual well-being, the soap insists that "we must begin with the most basic step of all, the daily ritual of cleaning."

So here I am. Going through everything I own and figuring out what is dirty or just taking up space and energy without giving me any bliss in return. Cleaning up my life, a little bit at a time. I'm also job-hunting... again... and figuring out where I'll live come January. Because I can't afford the rent where I'm living now-- even if I do get another job. I have to use the bulk of my money paying off all the debts I racked up while I failed to make ends meet over the past four years. So a huge part of my process is cleaning up and simplifying my finances. Seeing a debt counselor. Talking about bangkruptcy. Finding ways to pay the people who can't wait.

The blessing that keeps showing up in my life is my friends. I feel so supported and loved. Over and over again, as my situation bounces up and down over and over again. It's amazing how many truly awesome people I know. And I don't think I'd have understood that (or had the same list of friends) four years ago when I thought the world was going to be my oyster.

The books have been the toughest thing to winnow down. And I know I'm not done yet. The first thing I did was decide I can only afford the space for one bookshelf right now. So all the books I'm going to keep with me, and all the things that sit on a surface and take up space, have to fit on that one bookshelf.

As I weighed the value of each book, and the space it fills in my life vs the space available on that one bookshelf, I realized that I don't re-read quite as many books as I like to think I do. Mostly, I think of many of these books as old friends, and it makes me feel good to see them sitting on the shelf because I found them so useful at one time. A bit like my face soap, really. So I keep them around just in case things change and I have a use for them again.

But at this point, the universe has hit me over the head hard enough that I not only suspect, but I KNOW that I have got to slim down and severely limit all the superfluous drains on my time, energy, and space. All the things that make me feel stuck or overburdened when it comes time to pick up and go yet again. I will probably rent a storage room for the things I know I will never be able to replace-- like the bed frame my parents slept in for 30 years, the bookshelf my dad made for me, and the boxes of books that I will actually consult occasionally, but don't need to lug from spare bedroom to spare bedroom over the next six months. I will probably sell or dump a lot of my extra toiletries-- things like that darn 32 ounces of soap that have been sitting around for the past year without ever actually being useful.

As part of the plan (while also applying for jobs daily), I'm going to consolidate everything into my room in preparation for the next big move. I'd like to know exactly what I own-- and right now there are boxes I haven't had the opportunity to open in over two years. It's a strange space to be in, knowing that if I had a reliable job and my own tiny apartment, I already own everything I'd need to be happy there... And finally admitting that just I don't have that, and may not have that for a while longer. Having to ask myself which of those beloved-but-currently-useless items are worth the cost (financial and energetic) of keeping.

I've come to realize that there are a few specific things that really contribute to my sense of contentment in a given living situation. One of those things is having and using my own kitchen gear. Another is having a workspace/desk that nobody else messes with. And being able to trust that my cat is safe, comfortable, and content whether I'm home watching out for her during the day or not. As I begin to condense both my living space and my finances, I also realize that there are two support systems that I need to KNOW I can always pay for-- my cat, and my cell phone. Abbigale cannot be replaced by other people's cats-- not the way I can use the computer in the library (which would still suck), or eat at a friend's table from time to time.

So here we are. Simplifying. Cleaning up old messes. Going back to basics. Realizing that while I prefer contact lenses, my glasses work just fine. Learning that "food stamps" are now referred to as the "SNAP" program. And they give you a credit card instead of a coupon book. Stocking up on rice and lentils because they are cheap and filling, and toilet paper because you can't buy that with the SNAP card. The times they are a-changing. I wonder how much money I wasted on that Nordstrom soap...

Vulnerabilities

My copy of "Truth In Dating" by Susan M. Campbell went missing a couple of months ago, so I borrowed a copy from the library. Now it's due back because someone else put a hold on it. Probably someone I've recommended the book to. It's a really great book, for ANY person-to-person relationship, be it work, family, friends, or actual dating scenarios. I highly recommend it. Often.

So I'm sitting here contemplating the return trip to the library, and I flipped the book open to a page about being vulnerable. It's a very relevant page for me right now, because I've been feeling rather vulnerable the past few days for no reason I could find. I've also been trying to put my finger on a lingering concern I had yet to define in my dating relationship.

So what is my big vulnerability? Besides my fear of asking for more than someone has to give me? And why haven't I shared that with GB? What is it that's about ME, regardless of the relationship I'm in? Well-- I realize that I have a deep fear of being disposable. That I've started to resent the people who like to talk, but don't make time to listen. And I don't tend to share that bit of angst when it comes up. I know how important a good listener can be, and I am very very good at listening.

So many people in my world-- for the past twenty years or so-- They seek out my company when they are working on a big life change. When they need counsel or a leg up or just someone to listen and love them anyway. And when they get what they need to move forward with their lives, they spread their wings and fly away... until next time. That's part of why I finally opened an office. Why it's been so hard to give notice and close the office down again. I wanted to create a category in my life for the folks I support, so that I would be less likely to expect them to support me in return. It's not the way those relationships work.

It's a pattern I've known about for years, but I hadn't thought about it in a while. And I used to work hard at clarifying which were my fly-away friends, and which were my solid and constant friends who actually want to be there for ME on a regular basis, too. The folks who make time for me and appreciate more about me than my ability to support them. Because there is a lot more to me than the fact that I'm a good listener who helps others become the people they want to be. Guess I haven't paid enough attention to that lately.

From there I went back to thinking about my current relationship with GB. I realized that (from my perspective) my biggest function with him seems to be as a good listener, and as a catalyst for him to lead the life he has wanted to grow into for so long. And as much as I'm honored to fill that role for him, it makes me feel disposable. I'm just waiting for him to get what he needs and fly away like so many others do. And a big part of me wants to feel that the man I'm dating finds me interesting and fun and enjoyable and special for who I am and what I've done in my life-- and not just what I do for him. Anybody can listen.

Granted, I'm making a big assumption of what he likes or appreciates or even what he knows about me. But when my interest in watching "Warehouse 13" shocked him, because he was interested in it, too, and he hasn't been interested in watching anything else I like... I had to acknowledge just how little he does know (or find interesting) about me. And I'm not sure how to fix that. I mean, he's considerate, and observant, and works to remember any preferences I express. He's a good listener when I open my mouth and talk, and he's totally supportive when I let him know about a challenge I'm facing in my life. He respects me, and he appreciates my input. But that's the rub-- I share bits of his life with him... but I don't know how to get this awesome guy who I really like to share bits of my life with me. I think I'm pretty unique and have a lot of interesting stories to share, if given the opportunity. Clearly, it's something *I* have to work on. Making opportunities. And not just with GB.

For now, I've decided that a return to my original game plan of dating would be a good morale booster for me. And that's got to be my priority. Me. So when I go over to his place tonight, I'm going to wear the most outrageously "ME" clothing I own, (You are, by the way, reading the blog of a woman who wore poofy purple genie pants and a dragon medallion in high school, had a very tall "mohawk" buzz cut for a few months in college, cox'd for the West Poignt men's crew team, lived for several years as the perfect little Army Wife, has prophetic dreams, works as an Archival Librarian on a woman-run organic goat farm, and daydreams of riding motorcycles at high speeds.) and I'm going to bring a movie I want to watch for once! I'm going to be sassy and strong and demanding, and just get what I want for myself-- and let the boy worry about keeping up with me for a change. (--this was the original dating plan, btw) If he wants to stay with me, he's going to have to form functional relationship with ALL parts of who I am, prove he doesn't scare easy, and not just interact with the safe and supportive bits of me that I've been putting out there for him lately.

Yes, I'm pretty and sweet and I don't cheat, but there's a hell of a lot more to me than that!

...should be fun...

Hide and Seek

So there's a button on blogger that lets you "hide" your blog listing. And apparently I accidentally pushed that button sometime since my last post.

I've been going crazy this morning trying to track down the access point to this blog, with very little success. It doesn't help that my connection has been getting progressively slower over the last three months, either. All that logging in and out and in and out took time. grrrrrr

Until I finally and for no reason I can fathom decided I must have "hidden" that blog. Then it took me another little while to figure out how to UNHIDE it. And that term does not appear in the google/blogger help directory. So don't bother.

The good news is that there's a little button down at the bottom of the page that says "show all blogs," and when I finally found that button, and selected it, all was again right with my world.

Why are there always prologues to my stories??

Also, apparently due to the amazing levels of unexpected and prolonged gorgeous snow in December, the gas bill was an estimate. Based on earlier times when my housemate didn't actually have the heat on. So this month, we received a bill for what didn't show up last month, and this month's expense. And I guess we have to turn the heat back off now. Because I can't afford to pay her $150 a month to have heat.

So I guess I'll be closing the bedroom door and turning on my space heater. A lot. Because I suspect that the overage I'll pay for the electricity I use is NOTHING compared to this bill. Which actually scares me. A lot.

Besides hunting around for a way to access my own blog, how did I spend the morning? So glad you asked.

I spent this morning writing about my early attempts at marriage counseling, and the last pre-deployment briefing I attended before my X left for Iraq back in 2004. Oh, Joy. That gas bill was really NOT the cap I'd have chosen for my morning of woe.

It was interesting to remember back to the hole in the bedroom door, the Argmy Chaplain who first appeared angry on my behalf, and then when he actually met my X, was angry at me for not doing a better job of supporting such a fine outstanding and upstanding soldgier. It was interesting to remember both the hope I suddenly felt to have an authority figure on my side in my attempts to get marriage counseling and salvage our relationship-- and the utter desolation and isolation that ultimately came of the attempt.

Interesting to remember how life had to keep on keeping on around all that personal pain. We went out to dinner, we said how our day went, we acted like nothing was wrong when other people were around, and I worried about his well-being as he geared up for that deplogyment. And yet, looking back, I realize how absolutely everything had already fallen apart. Long before I actually was ready or willing or able to walk away.

I'm so glad to be here, and not there, now. Even with frozen fingers and a dwindling bank account and a crick in my neck from sitting at the computer too long. I think my story is an important one to tell-- the family side of Argmy Life, but more than that. I'm also telling how-- maybe eventually even WHY-- a marriage can fall apart, and a wife can decide to stay long past all reason. And, hopefully, I can tell a little bit of how to get out of a marriage like that.

I am hopeful. Hopeful for my own life, and for the lives of other women-- argmy or civilian, happy or desperate, married or divorced-- and for the possibility for positive change in every situation. Hopefully, telling my story will make a difference, too.

So I keep writing, and forcing myself to remember those painful, fearful, uncertain times. Times when I hid, or wanted to hide. Times I really don't want to remember anymore. And, hopefully, when it's all done, the results will be worth the journey I took to get them.

In the meantime, anybody know a good (and fairly recently published) memoir I should read? I'm looking for a good editor, and a well-written book might just be the place to start.

Lost In Place

Okay. I know. I'm a librarian. But, STILL--

It's a little embarrassing to look up from a book and realize that not only is it past my bedtime, but I totally forgot to call my best friend before HER bedtime-- because I was reading a book.
Again.

...scuse me while I explain the concept of sharing the desk chair to my cat...

So yeah. Pretty much, if I pick up a book that I haven't read at least five times before, it's very likely that I won't be able to put the book down again until I've read it. All of it. And, if I've got other deadlines in my day, TOO BAD.

I'm not proud of this, though I must say I've gotten to be a pretty FAST reader over the years... I'm more like... uhh... distressed by it. Especially when the thing I totally failed to remember because I was deep in the middle of-- whatever book I happen to have picked up-- is actually rather important. Like my best friend. Or my other best friend. Or an appointment. Or...

Well, anyway, if you ever catch me walking around with a book I've already read a million times, this is why. I probably have other things I want to accomplish, and can't afford to be so immersed in "what happens NEXT?!" that I forget about them. Just so you know.

And, this is also why I just don't have any new books to talk about when I'm doing something important-- like for the eighteen months I was in school for my Masters Degree. NO NEW BOOKS. HOMEWORK.

...excuse me while I explain to my cat that it isn't a REAL mouse...

Ahem.. where was I?
Oh, right. BOOKS. One of my all-time favorite things to do is curl up in a warm cozy corner with a good book and a yummy snack... for as long as it takes to finish reading the book. And sometimes a series is even worse. Because the first book leaves you hanging--- WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?! So you start reading the NEXT book in the series to find out... and it's often a vicious cycle. Thank goodness for alarm clocks and cats who really feel that it's past my bedtime, and it's time for the stupidity to end.

...excuse me while I explain to my cat that YES-- I really am going to bed now...

Coincidentally

I've been reading this book called Your Money or Your Life, by Joe Dominguez and Vicki Robin. A good friend gave it to me about five or six years ago, and I'm finally mature enough to read it. (Hi, L!) The book talks about how a budget is a lot like a diet. You deprive yourself and skimp, and it works- for a month or maybe two. Then you feel you've been so good-- you can relax. And you go right back to your old spending habits. So you start a new budget. Hmmm.... Sounds familiar....

The book was written in the 1980's, from what I can tell, or at least-- a lot of their examples come from that time. So in some ways, I'm trying to maintain a current perspective while taking in the intended lesson of some of the financial examples cited in the book. Like the time that Cindy Soandso realized she was buying a pair of shoes a week and not wearing them. And on her budget, you can see she was also paying $200 in rent per month. Yeah, right. Or how this nice military man and his wife wanted a big family and a home in the country-- and on a budget of less than $30,000 a year, they saved up $45,000 in seven years, while having four children and paying off $25,000 in debts. So I figure now, that would mean an income of around $45,000 a year, and only two children. I mean, really. If I try to believe that $30,000 can support a family of six plus a 20% savings plan for a YEAR in 2007-- I will probably stop reading this book.

The book isn't about setting yet another budget. It's actually about calculating how much time/energy you spend on your current life style, and being accountable to your dreams/goals/values for the way that energy/time is spent. It's about changing your relationship with money and with the time you spend earning it. Dominguez and Robin say that all you need is enough-- and just a little bit extra. The hard part is that our culture teaches us to have endless appetites for buying. The phrase "more is better" simply means that you'll never have enough to be happy. Once you attain it, you want something else-- something more. Because more is better.

Instead, pay attention, and notice what is enough. What is important to you in your life? Do you need another foodiddler to reach that goal or have that experience you really care about? Probably not. One of my favorite tools in the book so far is the Purpose-in-Life Test. Originally formulated by Viktor Frankl, a Nazi death camp survivor, this test helps you determine if you have a strong sense of life-purpose or meaning, and if you have found ways to live your life according to that awareness.

One of my favorite questions on the test was this: "Facing my daily tasks is: a source of pleasure and satisfaction/ neutral/ a painful and boring experience." It really made me stop and ask myself why I spend so much time not enjoying my life. Frankl's book is called, Man's Search for Meaning, just in case you want to check it out. I haven't yet. I'm too busy planning world domination on $50 a week. And besides, I (just barely) have a clear sense of purpose, according to the test results. I'll take that and run with it!

I stopped about half-way through the book to go get my weekly groceries. Step One: record all expenditures to the penny for a month. I filled my water jugs. ($1.40) I got gas. ($34.79) I stopped at a local used book store for a book my mom wants, and found a great little expenditure recording notebook. ($12.37) Coincidence #1: the book she wants is on sale this week. I realized I was supposed to meet my cousin at 3pm to pick up her Christmas Gift to me (time-sensitive), so I rushed over there.

So far, I was very cheerful, optimistic, not too hungry to food shop, totally pleased to get out of the multi-everything store with JUST WATER, and working hard to remember and record everything I spent. Then I drove through downtown in nearly rush hour traffic-- on a SATURDAY, and got pretty grumpy. I also got hungry and thirsty. Bad combo. Cousin's phone was busy so I knew she'd be in. She wasn't in. I tried to find a corner of downtown to hang out in for five minutes in hopes that she'd be back, but everywhere I went, SOMEONE WAS BEHIND ME trying to drive forward. I headed back to Trader Joe's. In nearly rush hour traffic. My cousin called about 20 minutes later. She's home now, where am I? Coincidence #2: She ran to the bank for 10 minutes, and we JUST MISSED EACH OTHER!!!

I hang up and turn into the parking lot of TJ's. Everyone is at TJ's today. Everyone. And they brought their friends along too. In separate cars. Even my brother was there. Seriously. We drove past each other in search of parking. (Coincidence #3.) I haven't seen my brother in a couple of months. So we shopped together (enlightening to say the least-- $19.77 for my groceries this week! Helps that Thanksgiving is at someone else's place.) and then headed out to a late lunch together. Coincidence #4: We actually both had time to catch up right then, and we'd both missed lunch! That was pretty darn cool.

So today I started the process toward financial intelligence. To the tune of $68.33. That's probably about a hundred dollars less than I spent last Saturday. Coincidentally, today was also the day I received my ex's lump-sum payment (less than $5,000) and legal paperwork ending our alimony arrangement about six months early. Talk about financial freedom! It's not that I can afford to do anything with this money but continue hoarding it for car payments over the next six months... it's that I don't have to hope he sends the money, or wait for it to arrive, or wonder if he'll stop paying in May or June, or... Nope. My life, and the time I spend in it, is mine to delineate. And I just regained control of my budget, too.

Coincidence? I think NOT!

Just Awesome

So today, I went straight from work to the Crazy Aunt Purl "Drunk Divorced and Covered in Cat Hair" book signing. It totally rocked. I was asked to notice if she's really as cute in person as she is in her blog photos-- the answer is yes. She also talks with a really sweet accent and a killer sense of humor, and she does get calmer as the event gets going. She's one of those people that it is IMPOSSIBLE not to love.

Oh, and did I mention that I did in fact show up divorced, and covered in cat hair? And baby goo... but not exactly what you'd call DRUNK. I don't drink and drive. Although after work, sometimes I wish I could...

I think we also all got our endorphin fix from laughing at all the awesome stories and funny moments Laurie shared with us. And we all recognized in meeting her (as her blog has helped us see so many times before) that we really are not alone, and that we are definitely NOT the only person to go through what we've gone through. Be it divorce, knitting frenzies, awkward social situations, talking to cute guys after too much wine has been drunk, or failing to ever use our oven as an oven. Like for cooking, as opposed to storing other kitchen things. Which reminds me that I should probably make sure I did get all the hidden stuff emptied out of it last week...

After I get some much-needed food and sleep, I will upload my photos and post them-- It'll be my official 100'th post. Very appropriate, I believe. Oh, and even more cool-- she totally talks the exact same way she blogs. And she was HUMAN!!! I've never met an author who was human before. Her biggest piece of advice about writing your first book? Write Fiction! Understandably, touring the country and answering all sorts of personal questions about her life has been a bit uncomfortable at times. Apparently, she always thought her first book would be a steamy romance (fiction) anyway... And the second book we all want to read when it gets written has an awesome fried chicken recipe in it already.

Oh, and Firefox is her browser of choice. GO FIREFOX, we love you!

Dinner....

By the way-- did I mention that she promised to take a picture of her still-insane zucchini plants just for one of the people in the audience who asked about them? I'm looking forward to that. Rogue Zucchini Runs Amok!!

Qwack-Qwack

Okay. If you haven't gone out and read Kiss My Tiara by Susan Jane Gilman, DO IT NOW. But only if you are fairly certain you are a woman.

Because then you will understand when I refer to such-and-such as just another Qwack-Qwack notion. Like fake leather thong bikinis. Or tattoo'd on makeup. Or diet twinkies. Or nylon pantyhos. I mean, really. Who invented this sort of rediculous torture, anyhow?!

And honestly, who wouldn't love to have a grandmother who says things like, "Take a few lovers, travel the world, and don't take any crap." (page xiii-- reading the forward is vital to understanidng what comes next. See?) So, like I said, go borrow a book from the local library. And make sure the title is Kiss My Tiara. Or, if you can't find that, I have it on good authority that you could easily settle for Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress instead.

Has it All

Driving home from work yesterday, saw a big macho truck.
And this truck had every macho or cool thing the owner could think of.
-It was jacked up.
-It was black.
-It had a skull and crossed bones sticker on the tailgate.
-It had steer antlers.
-It had a shark fin.
-It had the stickers that look like bullet holes.
-It was pretty funny to see ALL the gimmicks on one vehicle!

The little boy I nanny put in a special request for books about trains and airplanes from the "libbery" this week. He was so thrilled yesterday when I BROUGHT THE BOOKS!! Sat right down and flipped through each of them. I just love that.

The little girl took her first two steps yesterday!!! I called mom right away and told her about it, even though she was at work. She was so thrilled! Who knows how long it'll be until the next steps happen, but that was just SO COOL!!!

Migrant Birds

Spent two hours on a Migrant Farm handing out free children's books (mostly written in Spanish) and trying to understand Spanish as it was spoken today. Had to thank my ex for taking every opportunity to speak Spanish to other Spanish speakers-- I'm actually practiced at trying to understand a full-speed conversation from the few words I can recognize. And the more I listened, the more words I remembered (basic ones like Gracias and La Biblioteca and los libros-- books).

It was hot, dusty, and challenging, and I am TOTALLY EXHAUSTED. I can't imagine what it must be like for the farm workers-- most of whom do not speak any English-- to deal with these conditions-- including the lack of language skills-- every day! We went with a great group of dedicated people who brought free clothes and free food and ice cream for the kids. They offer to help people fill out forms, and they provide domestic violence intervention. The volunteers all speak Spanish, and all they want is to help their fellow people who are new to America to find her many opportunities.

I also realized that I'd been so nervous and scared about doing this because I viewed migrant workers as "those strange beings" who had nothing to do with me or my life. The thing is-- they are just normal people trying to get through their day. The clothes they wear are like ours because they are the clothes we outgrew or stopped liking and donated somewhere. These people we met with took great pride in their appearance, and many looked cleaner, and more slick than I did by a long-shot-- since I was hot, dusty, tired, and I just don't seem to control my hair very well at the best of times.

The teen aged girls had cliques and insider comments to make to each other. The little toddlers just wanted your full attention and as many books as they could hold. The parents and adult workers just wanted a little extra to put aside for hard times, or a special treat for their kids-- and free is a very good price. Just normal people.

And we didn't go to Tumbucktoo to see them, either. We went to the corner of two main streets-- where they meet about a mile from the center of town. It's the outskirts, but definitely not the boonies. There were still fences with lawns and shrubs on both sides of the street. And then we turned in to a gravel drive. There was a guard who had to approve our entry. He did this by glaring at us as we drove past, and then waving an arm at the parking area where we were supposed to set up our stuff.

So I'm glad I went. And I want to go again. But I also feel even more strongly about taking those Conversational Spanish classes as soon as I graduate. I have a lot to learn about my fellow wo/man. I think maybe we all do.

School

I have three book reviews each module for my Children/YA Literature course this summermester. Page 25 of the current book is titled 3. School, with the clarification below that "If you haven't found out yet, school is not a perfect place."

The first rhyme in this section is as follows:
Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream,
Throw your teacher overboard
And you will hear her scream.

I love my Child Lit class.

On Procrastination

I have this book... WHERE THE HECK IS IT??? ...well... I think it's called "Eliminating Chaos." It's a great book. It even has inspired me more than once to start pulling my act together and cleaning up my home. Except right now, it's buried in a pile somewhere and I can't find it. (boy do I feel silly)

Anyway, the point is that IN THIS BOOK, the author mentions another great book-- "It's About Time!" by Dr. Linda Sapadin. The book is basically a break down and treatment of the six styles of procrastination, according to Dr. Linda. (No, not Dr. Laura. Gods, no.) I usually find self-help books to be rather silly. Either too simplistic, too full of themselves, too lacking in actual helpful "here's how" information, or just dumb. But this is one self-help book that I'm planning to buy for most of the people I know. (Okay, probably not you. But other people.) And in the meantime, you get to hear all about the great discoveries I've made, and what I intend to do about them.

(Have I mentioned lately how much I love tea? Even more than the spell-checker. Really.)

Anyway, the book includes tests so you can figure out what your major form(s) of procrastination are, your minor form(s), and which ones might be good to read just on general principles. Dr. Linda says most people have one major form, and a couple of supporting procrastination styles. And if you score over 10 on a test-- that is the major one you need to pay attention to.

Uhh.... Dr. Linda? I scored over ten on ALL of them... can I go home now?

Anyway, then I started reading the three I scored highest in. And for the first one, I kept saying-- "That isn't me! I don't do that. Do I DO that? I don't do that." So then I decided maybe my test scores were a little off. Well, so with a much lighter frame of mind (Okay, I'm not a total failure, here.), I read the one I scored second-highest in.

Oh.

Yeah... That's Me.

I can now tell you with ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY that I am a perfectionist procrastinator. I'm sure you already knew that. But see-- I didn't. And for each of the two styles of procrastination I've read so far (means you'll probably get to read more blogs about this in the future)-- there are two sides to the coin.

So with the Perfectionist Procrastinator, you either are ALWAYS WORKING WAY TOO HARD to get everything perfect-- and may not turn things in at work (or school) on time because you are still busy adding things to it to make it PERFECT-- an impossible task that leaves you constantly stressed and worried and wanting to DO MORE and BE BETTER.

Or- you're like me.

You are so worried that you won't do it perfectly (whatever it is) that you find reasons not to do it at all-- or not to do it until your time is so short-- it's the perfect excuse for the final product to be imperfect-- and it's just NOT YOUR FAULT that it's not PERFECT LIKE YOU THINK IT SHOULD BE-- and you assume everyone else thinks it should be, too. Because if you'd just had more time, you'd have done it right. Whatever "right" is.

The best thing about this book-- other than helping me see the pattern of my behavior in a clear and unavoidable fashion-- is that it also offers simple things that I could actually DO to help each style of procrastinator overcome their habit. From now on, you'll hear me changing my "should" statements to "could" options. My "have to" shackles to "want to" intentions. And a few other things, too.

And if you talk to me at any length in the next few weeks, you'll probably get to hear something else I learned from this glorious self-help book about procrastination. Applied to you. Lucky you. I've still got four more styles to learn about, too! Oh- Abbigale says Hi. She is, as usual, helping me write thsi.

...by the way...
I'm not shooting for perfection anymore, either. I just want to be a high achiever. I think maybe I can do that. Without so much stress, and so little free time. And without feeling bad about myself and how little I actually achieve (or do perfectly) anymore. What a relief.