As I was brushing my teeth with my timed, electric toothbrush, I was thinking of all of the recommended times everyone has for all the things we're supposed to do each day. I wondered if it was possible to actually do everything everyone tells me I should do for the length of time they all tell me I need to do them. So I made a list. Here are some of the things I've been told to do each day (or things I need to do each day) and estimated times it takes to do them:
Things I should do each day:
Wake up at 6
Brush teeth - 2 min................ 2
Shower - 15 min.................... 17
Face - 1o min................... 27
Dress - 5 min................... 32
Hair and make-up - 20 min........ 52
Make breakfast - 15min............. 1:07
Eat breakfast -15........................ 1:22
Devo - 15 min.............................. 1:37
Drive to work - 15 min............... 1:52
Work - 8 hours............................ 9:52
Drive home - 15 min................... 10:07
Exercise - 30 min......................... 10:37
Cook dinner - 30 min................... 11:07
Eat dinner - 30 min ......................11:37
Make tomorrow's lunch - 30 min......12:07
Call family/talk with friends - 30min...... 12:37
Wash face - 15 min........................ 12:52
Floss - 1min.................................... 12:53
Rinse - 1 min................................... 12:54
Brush - 2 min................................. 12:56
Quiet time - 1 hour........................ 13:56
Wash hands (during the day) - 4 min....... 14:00
Bed by 10
If you count the 8 hours of sleep I need, this allows me 2 hours in my day of free time to watch tv or read. Now this does not count the fact that on each day of the week I have a different activity planned that usually takes at least 2 hours (on Wednesday it's 6), that I tend to work once I get home, that I have usually committed to planning or preparing for some thing at work or church that requires sewing or shopping or creating, that I need to check email (or facebook), or allotting for any other emergency that might come up. So I've determined that I cannot make it all happen.
And yet...if I talk to my mom on the phone while preparing dinner and if I brush my teeth in the shower...and if I choose not to style my hair or wear makeup... and if I exercise while at work... and if I eat breakfast while in my car on the way to work...and if I use my cellphone while driving... and if I only get 6 hours sleep... and if I talk to my roommate while we watch tv as we eat dinner and I'm grading (or sewing or creating), then I can save hours!
So I must multitask. I cannot cut out the things I love just to do silly things like "be healthy" or "well rested". Ha! I defy time by efficiently spreading myself too thin and overworking my brain by performing in mediocrity on several tasks at once. Take that, twenty-four hour days!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
The End of 'Me' Time
I often hear the admonition to "take some time for yourself" or "you can't please everyone" or "maybe you should reduce some of the stress in your life." I hear these admonitions, but I don't usually listen. I fill my life with all sorts of activities and obligations. Someone once asked me if my work was my life and I answered, "Yes, but so is my family and my church. I try to squeeze three lives into one." Is this wearing? Is this something that brings my stress levels up and my sleep time down? Yes.
So this spring break, I decided to heed those warnings and take some time for me. I went on a women's retreat to start it off and had a wonderful time. While there, I tried hard not to think of what I should be doing to maximize my effective use of time. I tried not to squeeze in as much conversation time with each person I knew and while talking with her thinking, "I need to also talk with those thirty other people." Instead I just talked with whomever was near. I talked as long as I wanted and listened wholeheartedly.
After I got back, I hid away at the beach house. I brought a little food, some clothes, and some books and I just sat outside and read. For three days. It was wonderful. I even spent one whole day where I didn't think, "what should I be doing now instead of this?" I ignored my potential responsibilities and just existed. It was glorious. Nine hours of sleep each night, food all day and two books completed.
Now that I'm back in the real world, the dam is no longer able to hold back the waters of responsibility and I feel that I've stayed away too long. Tomorrow I have choir, church, missions report, time to spend with my family (especially Paul and Erin), hundreds of papers to grade, and laundry to do. This week at school I have "Annie" rehearsals, lesson plans to refine, sub plans to write, grades to enter, seating charts, and meetings. After school I have Bible studies, dr. appointments, and friends to see.
I don't want to complain (too late, I suppose) because I love my life. I love to do all of the things I do. I love my family, and I love my friends. I love to devote myself to these things. As my friend, Aleta, said: I like to keep my cup full, to the brim and just above so that I cannot take one more drop.
It was nice to have a couple days of just me time, but now I feel like I've not spent my week off as well as I could. I certainly procrastinated on the important stuff enough. Let the busy days begin.
So this spring break, I decided to heed those warnings and take some time for me. I went on a women's retreat to start it off and had a wonderful time. While there, I tried hard not to think of what I should be doing to maximize my effective use of time. I tried not to squeeze in as much conversation time with each person I knew and while talking with her thinking, "I need to also talk with those thirty other people." Instead I just talked with whomever was near. I talked as long as I wanted and listened wholeheartedly.
After I got back, I hid away at the beach house. I brought a little food, some clothes, and some books and I just sat outside and read. For three days. It was wonderful. I even spent one whole day where I didn't think, "what should I be doing now instead of this?" I ignored my potential responsibilities and just existed. It was glorious. Nine hours of sleep each night, food all day and two books completed.
Now that I'm back in the real world, the dam is no longer able to hold back the waters of responsibility and I feel that I've stayed away too long. Tomorrow I have choir, church, missions report, time to spend with my family (especially Paul and Erin), hundreds of papers to grade, and laundry to do. This week at school I have "Annie" rehearsals, lesson plans to refine, sub plans to write, grades to enter, seating charts, and meetings. After school I have Bible studies, dr. appointments, and friends to see.
I don't want to complain (too late, I suppose) because I love my life. I love to do all of the things I do. I love my family, and I love my friends. I love to devote myself to these things. As my friend, Aleta, said: I like to keep my cup full, to the brim and just above so that I cannot take one more drop.
It was nice to have a couple days of just me time, but now I feel like I've not spent my week off as well as I could. I certainly procrastinated on the important stuff enough. Let the busy days begin.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Life Lessons Learned by Being Raised by Wolves...I Mean Boys
I was the only girl in my family. I had no sisters and all male cousins on one side. My female cousins (all 3 of them) lived in Northern CA so I didn't get to see them as often as I liked. That meant that my formative years were spent playing with boys. This gave me a unique experience that formed me into the tom-boy princess I am today. Here are some lessons I can pass on to others less fortunate than myself:
1) Wonderwoman doesn't cry. Whenever my brothers would tease me or hurt me and I would cry, they knew they would get in trouble so they tried to convince me that real women didn't cry. Wonderwoman was (is) my favorite super hero so if she didn't cry then I shouldn't either. It often worked.
2) Anything can be a competition. Get a bunch of boys together in an empty room and they can make a competition out of it. Who can stand on one leg the longest, who can jump the farthest, who can hold their breath without passing out? If you add in a prop then the possibilities are endless. One of my personal favorites is the crawl around a table. You take a fold up rectangular table and see if you can crawl around it (the narrow end). It's trickier than it may seem.
3) Instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing and you should be able to figure out how to build anything by just looking at it. (I actually go against this one entirely. I read EVERY instruction).
4) If you don't have one, build it. Need a shelf? Build one. Is something broken? You can fix it with some duct tape. Zip line? No problem, I'm sure I've got some extra wire and a pulley and harness somewhere in the garage.
5) Chicks dig scars...I'm not sure if this works the other way around...
6) Don't tell the hospital the real reason your elbow is bruised or your knee is hyper-extended. "While wrestling with my brother in the kitchen, I was thrown to the floor and landed on my elbow." They look at you funny when they see that you are a grown-up and so is your 6'5'' brother.
7) Don't react. When teased, scared, pushed, pulled, tickled, or put in a choker hold simply relax and wait for it to be over. They usually get bored long before you pass out...usually.
8) The Matrix is the best movie ever made...and if you disagree Paul will kill you.
9) If you like (0r at least know enough about them) Sci-Fi, the Godfather movies, Rambo, and Rocky you will always have a movie connection with boys.
10) Don't ever punch at full strength or someone might punch you back at his full strength...trust me on this one.
1) Wonderwoman doesn't cry. Whenever my brothers would tease me or hurt me and I would cry, they knew they would get in trouble so they tried to convince me that real women didn't cry. Wonderwoman was (is) my favorite super hero so if she didn't cry then I shouldn't either. It often worked.
2) Anything can be a competition. Get a bunch of boys together in an empty room and they can make a competition out of it. Who can stand on one leg the longest, who can jump the farthest, who can hold their breath without passing out? If you add in a prop then the possibilities are endless. One of my personal favorites is the crawl around a table. You take a fold up rectangular table and see if you can crawl around it (the narrow end). It's trickier than it may seem.
3) Instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing and you should be able to figure out how to build anything by just looking at it. (I actually go against this one entirely. I read EVERY instruction).
4) If you don't have one, build it. Need a shelf? Build one. Is something broken? You can fix it with some duct tape. Zip line? No problem, I'm sure I've got some extra wire and a pulley and harness somewhere in the garage.
5) Chicks dig scars...I'm not sure if this works the other way around...
6) Don't tell the hospital the real reason your elbow is bruised or your knee is hyper-extended. "While wrestling with my brother in the kitchen, I was thrown to the floor and landed on my elbow." They look at you funny when they see that you are a grown-up and so is your 6'5'' brother.
7) Don't react. When teased, scared, pushed, pulled, tickled, or put in a choker hold simply relax and wait for it to be over. They usually get bored long before you pass out...usually.
8) The Matrix is the best movie ever made...and if you disagree Paul will kill you.
9) If you like (0r at least know enough about them) Sci-Fi, the Godfather movies, Rambo, and Rocky you will always have a movie connection with boys.
10) Don't ever punch at full strength or someone might punch you back at his full strength...trust me on this one.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Never Ask Me For Directions
I don't live in Long Beach, but I have driven in that city most of my life. Much of my family lives in that city, my church is in Long Beach, and I drive through it at least twice a week. I should know a lot about it. I should be able to identify and locate major streets by name.
I mix up words that begin with the same letter. I usually look at the first letter of a word and just jumble the rest. I think this came from speed reading. I would read the first letter of a character's name and say to myself, "Oh, the M girl said that." This can be a problem in that I get March and May confused constantly. I often switch student's names up. Hieu and Hien are always the same. Angela and Angelica I usually just mumble out and Trinh, Trang, Trong, Thong, and Thang are hopelessly mixed up without apology from me.
If only this key piece of information was posted somewhere on my car. While driving through Long Beach last Tuesday night, a man pulled up beside me and rolled down his window. I know what you're thinking...don't respond, just drive away. A strange man wants to talk to you...in Long Beach. But I'm unable to think defensively and so I rolled down my window expecting him to tell me my headlight is out.
"Can you tell me where Willow is?"
I should have said the truth, which is a blazing and pathetic, "no." But I knew I should be able to direct someone from Cherry to Willow. I've driven past it a million times. I know that it is south of my current position, but which W street am I thinking of? Woodruff, Wardlow, and Willow become this mixed up jumble of street names and locations and suddenly I have no idea where Willow is. Does this stop me?
"Make a u-turn and turn right on Carson, you'll hit Wardlow and then turn right you should eventually hit Woodruff and turn right, then you'll hit Willow."
Immediately I know how wrong I am. Wardlow is parallel to Carson, so unless he's driving on some non-Euclidean streets, he's never going to make it. As he is following my doomed and stupid directions, I shout out more jumbled information from my window. It's only after I'm on the freeway that I realize how stupid my directions were and I pray for the poor guy who is potentially following them.
Why, out of all the cars did he pick mine? Do mini's seem friendlier? Was the Phi Beta Kappa sticker on the back a possible indicator of intelligence. Well, I'm sure he's aware by now how wrong he was in his choice.
I mix up words that begin with the same letter. I usually look at the first letter of a word and just jumble the rest. I think this came from speed reading. I would read the first letter of a character's name and say to myself, "Oh, the M girl said that." This can be a problem in that I get March and May confused constantly. I often switch student's names up. Hieu and Hien are always the same. Angela and Angelica I usually just mumble out and Trinh, Trang, Trong, Thong, and Thang are hopelessly mixed up without apology from me.
If only this key piece of information was posted somewhere on my car. While driving through Long Beach last Tuesday night, a man pulled up beside me and rolled down his window. I know what you're thinking...don't respond, just drive away. A strange man wants to talk to you...in Long Beach. But I'm unable to think defensively and so I rolled down my window expecting him to tell me my headlight is out.
"Can you tell me where Willow is?"
I should have said the truth, which is a blazing and pathetic, "no." But I knew I should be able to direct someone from Cherry to Willow. I've driven past it a million times. I know that it is south of my current position, but which W street am I thinking of? Woodruff, Wardlow, and Willow become this mixed up jumble of street names and locations and suddenly I have no idea where Willow is. Does this stop me?
"Make a u-turn and turn right on Carson, you'll hit Wardlow and then turn right you should eventually hit Woodruff and turn right, then you'll hit Willow."
Immediately I know how wrong I am. Wardlow is parallel to Carson, so unless he's driving on some non-Euclidean streets, he's never going to make it. As he is following my doomed and stupid directions, I shout out more jumbled information from my window. It's only after I'm on the freeway that I realize how stupid my directions were and I pray for the poor guy who is potentially following them.
Why, out of all the cars did he pick mine? Do mini's seem friendlier? Was the Phi Beta Kappa sticker on the back a possible indicator of intelligence. Well, I'm sure he's aware by now how wrong he was in his choice.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Missing Grandpa a Year Later
It is hard to believe that it's been a year since my grandpa died. In some ways, I don't even like to believe that it's true at all and in others it feels like his being gone is now a part of our lives.
February proved to be a tough month. It was the anniversary of his getting sick, Valentine's Day which would have been their 62nd anniversary, and then the anniversary of his passing on the 26th. My policy: avoid it all.
Valentine's day used to be a wonderful celebration for me. I always loved it, regardless of my dating status, because it was my grandparents' day. Their love was such a fantastic love story that felt like an endless Hallmark movie. Their love for each other spilled out to all of us. We always got gifts on Valentine's day from Grandma and Grandpa. This year, we didn't celebrate. I didn't even buy them for my students.
I was sure that last Friday would be a tough day for me, but it wasn't. I didn't cry, I thought of Grandpa often, but it was with fondness and pleasure in my memories of him. I felt that I was beginning to accept the reality of him being gone and I was finally able to think back in joy.
Today I was caught off guard. I'm reading a cute book to my first period class about Jr. High kids. I was reading a chapter today that was not particularly sentimental or dramatic, but just involved a boy going on a walk with his grandpa and hearing some of his stories. As I read the line, "and boy could my grandpa talk!" I got choked up. I started to cry and could barely get out the words. I really miss my grandpa's stories.
Sometimes when I would be cornered by my grandpa and he'd be telling me a story, I'd tell myself, "He won't always be here to say this. Take the time to listen!" And I would do it. I would listen and soak it in and savor it. How much I would love to just hear one more. To have him grab my arms and tell me something.
The other day I wore a dress that I knew he liked and I could just hear his compliment to me. He would always grab my arms and look at me and say, "That's a beautiful dress." It's impossible to feel ugly when an artist compliments you like that.
I can't even imagine what it must be like for Grandma. I've decided that she's going to be sad forever until she's with him again and that's ok. I'm going to try to give her glimmers of happiness, but when you've been cherished by a man like John Reimer for over 61 years, it seems pretty nearly impossible to try to live joyfully without him.
I am so thankful for my Grandpa and the time that I was able to have with him. I am thankful that I knew him so well and that I was able to be loved by him and love him. I miss him so much, but I am starting to remember him with joy. I sure did love him and I sure do miss him.
February proved to be a tough month. It was the anniversary of his getting sick, Valentine's Day which would have been their 62nd anniversary, and then the anniversary of his passing on the 26th. My policy: avoid it all.
Valentine's day used to be a wonderful celebration for me. I always loved it, regardless of my dating status, because it was my grandparents' day. Their love was such a fantastic love story that felt like an endless Hallmark movie. Their love for each other spilled out to all of us. We always got gifts on Valentine's day from Grandma and Grandpa. This year, we didn't celebrate. I didn't even buy them for my students.
I was sure that last Friday would be a tough day for me, but it wasn't. I didn't cry, I thought of Grandpa often, but it was with fondness and pleasure in my memories of him. I felt that I was beginning to accept the reality of him being gone and I was finally able to think back in joy.
Today I was caught off guard. I'm reading a cute book to my first period class about Jr. High kids. I was reading a chapter today that was not particularly sentimental or dramatic, but just involved a boy going on a walk with his grandpa and hearing some of his stories. As I read the line, "and boy could my grandpa talk!" I got choked up. I started to cry and could barely get out the words. I really miss my grandpa's stories.
Sometimes when I would be cornered by my grandpa and he'd be telling me a story, I'd tell myself, "He won't always be here to say this. Take the time to listen!" And I would do it. I would listen and soak it in and savor it. How much I would love to just hear one more. To have him grab my arms and tell me something.
The other day I wore a dress that I knew he liked and I could just hear his compliment to me. He would always grab my arms and look at me and say, "That's a beautiful dress." It's impossible to feel ugly when an artist compliments you like that.
I can't even imagine what it must be like for Grandma. I've decided that she's going to be sad forever until she's with him again and that's ok. I'm going to try to give her glimmers of happiness, but when you've been cherished by a man like John Reimer for over 61 years, it seems pretty nearly impossible to try to live joyfully without him.
I am so thankful for my Grandpa and the time that I was able to have with him. I am thankful that I knew him so well and that I was able to be loved by him and love him. I miss him so much, but I am starting to remember him with joy. I sure did love him and I sure do miss him.
Friday, February 5, 2010
My Book Challenge
. So I know I have a problem. I know that my love for books can be a little obsessive. I know that I also buy more books than I need because I like to have a loaning library and, honestly, I feel comforted by being surrounded by books. Recently I was struck by how much I spend on books each year. I also noticed that I have a lot of books I haven't read yet. One night I decided to count them: 65. That's right, in my room alone (that doesn't count the closet of books I have) there are 65 books I own and haven't read. Then I counted the books I've borrowed and haven't read: 30. So I essentially have 100 books in my room that I haven't read yet.
. I gave myself this challenge and wrote it down next to my list of books I need to read:
. I may not purchase another book until I have read every book I own except theological, devotional, historical, or math books.
. I must also finish one borrowed book before I can buy one new book. (This is to make room in my shelves and because it's rude to keep a book for that long)
Exceptions are:
. I'm not sure how long it will take me to complete my list. I would say a year, but some of the books include "David Copperfield" and "Gone With the Wind" which I've meant to read for 18 years after I dishonestly wrote a book report about it even though I hadn't read it (I got an A, but it was a tainted A). Those will take me a long time, but I'm sure that since most of the other books are either teen fiction or Christian romance novels I'll be able to zip through them quickly.
. I'll keep you posted on my progress and feel free to hold me accountable. I'm just not sure what to do about our school's book fair...it's for a good cause...I better start reading fast.
. I gave myself this challenge and wrote it down next to my list of books I need to read:
. I may not purchase another book until I have read every book I own except theological, devotional, historical, or math books.
. I must also finish one borrowed book before I can buy one new book. (This is to make room in my shelves and because it's rude to keep a book for that long)
Exceptions are:
- Books in a series in which I've read every previous book in that series.
- Gifts (for others or from others)
- Books I need for a specific purpose. (I know this sounds like a loophole, but what I mean is books I may need for a Bible study or for my classroom, but ones I need to buy intentionally)
. I'm not sure how long it will take me to complete my list. I would say a year, but some of the books include "David Copperfield" and "Gone With the Wind" which I've meant to read for 18 years after I dishonestly wrote a book report about it even though I hadn't read it (I got an A, but it was a tainted A). Those will take me a long time, but I'm sure that since most of the other books are either teen fiction or Christian romance novels I'll be able to zip through them quickly.
. I'll keep you posted on my progress and feel free to hold me accountable. I'm just not sure what to do about our school's book fair...it's for a good cause...I better start reading fast.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
A walk around my 'hood (or how Frank's real name is Ray)
I decided that watching 4 episodes of Gilmore in a row, although entertaining and restful, is not going to make me a healthy person. So I decided to put on a cute sweater and go for a walk around my neighborhood.
Five seems to be a happening time in my neighborhood. I saw Frank, the frisbee guy cooking on the BBQ. Best Christmas decoration people were taking their lights down. All black dog walking bike riding guy was out for another ride. And several other people were out and about. I felt like I was part of a community.
You see, I grew up in a neighborhood that was more like a small town. We all had keys to each others houses and knew all the details of everyone's life. My parents' neighborhood was more like another family to me. Since I've moved here, things have been a little more quiet. Maybe it's because I don't have my father to instigate introductions or maybe everyone else is a little bit quieter too. I just felt bad that after four years I only know a few of my neighbors by their real names.
Best Christmas decoration people always have the best Christmas decorations. They get together with their whole building and do a theme. One year they even gift wrapped the garage doors. I've always wanted to tell them that I love their decorations and tonight I did!
All black dog walking bike riding guy is just as his name implies. He wears only all black and rides his bike with his dog on the leash. Seriously, even his dog is black. It kind of creeps me out. What made him choose a monochromatic life? The ease of one color? Does he just think black is elegant? Is he color blind? A tragic fingerpainting accident that has left him devoid of happiness expressed through color? I don't know. I avoided him on my walk.
And then there's Frank, the frisbee guy. Frank is an older gentleman who is always playing with kids toys in the street. He often plays with frisbees, remote control cars, kites, airplanes, and one time this complicated UFO thing that was glowing and traveled on a string connecting two balconies across the street from each other. Frank has always been a pleasant waver when I drive by. Maybe he calls me "that mini girl", but Julie and I named him Frank. Well it took me three laps around the complex to get up the courage to introduce myself to Frank, but I finally did. He's lived here for 21 years (that's about as old as the complex) and his name is Ray. His friend across the street is Al. I have to tell you, I was a little disappointed. He really looks more like a Frank to me, but I'm glad to get to know him.
So now I know even more of my neighbors and so if I am tragically murdered and the detectives start asking my neighbors about the girl who lived in suite D, more of them will know more about me than just that I drive a mini and can be heard singing to myself as I skip to the mailbox. This brings me comfort.
Five seems to be a happening time in my neighborhood. I saw Frank, the frisbee guy cooking on the BBQ. Best Christmas decoration people were taking their lights down. All black dog walking bike riding guy was out for another ride. And several other people were out and about. I felt like I was part of a community.
You see, I grew up in a neighborhood that was more like a small town. We all had keys to each others houses and knew all the details of everyone's life. My parents' neighborhood was more like another family to me. Since I've moved here, things have been a little more quiet. Maybe it's because I don't have my father to instigate introductions or maybe everyone else is a little bit quieter too. I just felt bad that after four years I only know a few of my neighbors by their real names.
Best Christmas decoration people always have the best Christmas decorations. They get together with their whole building and do a theme. One year they even gift wrapped the garage doors. I've always wanted to tell them that I love their decorations and tonight I did!
All black dog walking bike riding guy is just as his name implies. He wears only all black and rides his bike with his dog on the leash. Seriously, even his dog is black. It kind of creeps me out. What made him choose a monochromatic life? The ease of one color? Does he just think black is elegant? Is he color blind? A tragic fingerpainting accident that has left him devoid of happiness expressed through color? I don't know. I avoided him on my walk.
And then there's Frank, the frisbee guy. Frank is an older gentleman who is always playing with kids toys in the street. He often plays with frisbees, remote control cars, kites, airplanes, and one time this complicated UFO thing that was glowing and traveled on a string connecting two balconies across the street from each other. Frank has always been a pleasant waver when I drive by. Maybe he calls me "that mini girl", but Julie and I named him Frank. Well it took me three laps around the complex to get up the courage to introduce myself to Frank, but I finally did. He's lived here for 21 years (that's about as old as the complex) and his name is Ray. His friend across the street is Al. I have to tell you, I was a little disappointed. He really looks more like a Frank to me, but I'm glad to get to know him.
So now I know even more of my neighbors and so if I am tragically murdered and the detectives start asking my neighbors about the girl who lived in suite D, more of them will know more about me than just that I drive a mini and can be heard singing to myself as I skip to the mailbox. This brings me comfort.
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