Category Archives: lost in procrastination

Aimless

It appears I have forgotten how to write – except in short bursts of 140 characters. (Oh, ok.. a few more when I wander over to Facebook from Twitter.)

My conscience tells me I shouldn’t spend time blogging (I can easily lose a whole morning writing a single post) – yet I spend the same amount of time surfing aimlessly between Tweetdeck, Facebook, blogs, the news, and my favourite time-wasting sites.

I do a bit of desultory commenting – but even feel like I have failed my blog friends with my lack of involvement. I am still keeping tabs on everyone… I’m just… not quite all here…

This lack of direction probably reflects everything in my life right now. Like blog, like life – I’m lacking a theme, and a sense of purpose.

Maybe it’s the netball fatigue.

The State Age weekend is over. The 15 yr old’s team did well. The 12 yrs team didn’t win a game, and it was hard to watch. Both Netball Dad and I truly wondered if we should have got this team together. Their coach (our Ms 17) is upset with us for expressing that – she can only see positives, looks only at improvement, however small it was (and not at the million times they didn’t do the basics she’d been trying to teach them.)

Let’s just say I am enjoying the break from all things netball over the rest of the school holidays. Though trying to get the mountains – nay, volcanoes (the type that form up out of nowhere) – of washing done and dried last week was a feat in itself. (Annoying weather it was, damp, cloudy days that prevented the usual simple line-drying in a day approach. Plus the dryer died again!)

By the weekend I finally caught up – and then Himself and I dusted off the tandem (actually – he did that, after having taken it in to the bike shop recently to get something fixed on it) – and we did our first tandem ride in more than 6 months. His idea of easing back into it was a 35km ride down the highway and back. Apart from the chestiness (new medical term I just made up to describe the lingering chesty cough feeling in my lungs), I was actually surprised at how I pulled up. Now we just have to make it a regular thing again.

Next project now is to get a handle on starting the renovations/extensions. I’m dropping off the Owner Builder permit application to Fair Trading today. I made a start on trying to clear out some junk on the weekend. But I think Himself needs to take a week or two off work to get the ball rolling.

Yesterday afternoon I went for a walk on the beach. It’s criminal how long it has been since I’ve done that. I didn’t take the camera, and of course wished that I had. There’s a potential photographer hiding deep down within me – she just doesn’t know how to get out.

Right now I’m off to take Ms 11 and friend to the movies. Toy Story 3. I could do without seeing it in 3D, but they insist.

Regular transmission may resume again soon – once I find my writing mojo amongst the mess. Perhaps I need to go out and buy a new direction. Any idea where they sell those?

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Cinderella

“All you ever ask me to do is CHORES!”

Poor Cinderella.  She wiped her tear streaked face with dirty hands, filthy from having had to sweep up the ashes from the fireplace .. after scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush, and weeding the garden with her bare hands.

This outburst was prompted by the apparent heinous parental crime of  asking her to do her dishwasher unloading job.

Such cruel, cruel parents we are  – in her imagination.

The facts?  Ms Just About 17 was finally asked to empty the dishwasher at about 7pm on Sunday, after I had waited patiently for the “stressed” HSC student to time manage it herself, in between stints in her bedroom (presumably doing school work), and several “relaxation” stints of TV watching.

(Yes, I have probably overreacted to some experiences in our youth where I felt that parents were unreasonable about time frames…)

Didn’t we know how STRESSED she was? And how she needed her downtime. And she’s expected to do all these CHORES. We’re always nagging her to do chores, apparently.

We have this Roster, you see. It’s such a terrible roster.. each child has maybe one or two jobs a day, which translates to twice a week for each on each duty.  Sat and Sunday double up (to Ms 17s disgust, so I usually try to do the dishwasher one of those days. To keep it FAIR, you know.

Mostly, despite the fact that they requested a roster system in the first place, they don’t even manage to do what they are supposed to do.  (And I’m not very good at keeping on top of it.) I usually realise what’s not done once they are in bed.  Almost always I have to nag:

“And while I’m out do your jobs.”

None of it is Cinderella material either. Unpack the dishwasher is the most time consuming and “arduous”. The other meagre jobs are ’empty recycling’, clear table, fill up water bottles after dinner, put kitchen garbage in bin.

Occasionally I’ll ask for a bit extra – “Can you get the clothes off the line please.”  And taking turns on a weekly basis to do the bathroom vanity, which Ms 17 manages to skive off because she doesn’t use that one. (She uses ours.)

And they’re supposed to share the table-setting each night.

But apparently I had the hide to ask  Ms 17 last week (or was it the week before?) to help her sister get the clothes off the line  – AND demand it be done THEN (as it was getting dark and damp outside.)  My GOD, she was chilling out, de-stressing, watching TV.)

Occasionally I manage to get them to make a salad. Or chop up some veggies. Ms 17 specialises in avoidance tactics here, so much so that it’s usually less stressful for ME to do it myself, than nag. (And then shout.)

Somewhere along the line I’ve failed miserably at this part of parenting.

No sweeping floors, cleaning loos… (only occasionally, in one of the visitor-induced household freak out clean ups do they get asked to vacuum.)

This girl has it TOO GOOD. As I told her (in a very loud voice, numerous times).

“You don’t know you’re alive!”

“Ohhh, get over yourself.”

“Stop carrying on like a bloody Princess.”

So take note.. those of you with younger kids. Get in early, before they have had a chance to hone their avoidance tactics, and expectations, and get them used to the Cinderella treatment. Else you’ll end up with a Queenager with a Princess complex like mine.

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Great Distractions

Well, yes, I’m a Procrastinator Extraordinaire – as some of you will have figured out by now. It doesn’t take much each day to derail me from my good intentions.  Pretty much ANYTHING on the computer will distract me from a new day’s resolution. Reading blogs – never mind writing them. Check Facebook. Check Twitter. Check email. (Lather, rinse, repeat.) Play around with netball photos and the website. Check the newspaper online. Check out my favourite Timewaster sites.

There is so much I should be doing, that I have pushed my writing to the side, and even been contemplating a blogging sabbatical . Hell, even an INTERNET sabbatical. (This house will never get cleaned, and the renovations never done otherwise.)

Today, though (while still procrastinating about my procrastinating)  I got completely sidetracked with making a Watermark for my photos. Oh BushBabe – it wasn’t a priority today, but I couldn’t help myself once given the instructions in your post. Suddenly the idea of doing a watermark on my photos gained the highest priority.

I even went font hunting. (Love this site – Abstract Fonts )

After much trial and error, I’ve come up with once I like.

I think.

Now I’m not so sure.

Does this look better?

Is it opaque enough? What else could I have done to it to make it watermark-y?

Or what about something like this…?

Actually, I like that last one. But how do I make it look good on a dark background?

Should it be bigger.. or smaller?

Should I even bother? I mean, my photos aren’t that good.

Well.. I’m now awaiting BB’s instructions on how to make it into a photoshop Action.   And hoping that somewhere down the track this photoshop experimentation leads to something worthwhile that doesn’t make me feel quite so much like I’ve procrastinated the day away!

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And that was March.

Not my month for writing anything of substance, so it seems.  If this was a job, I’d be sacked.

I’ve been busy. Ish.  School canteen. Renovation design choices. Netball.  (The netball stuff has taken up a fair bit of time – and emotional energy. Committees .. bah ..  what was that quote by Jean-Paul Sartre? – “Hell is other people” ?  I’ve been through the wringer a bit with some Stuff (caused by one person) but it’s too hard to summarise  in a blog post when I really should be cleaning up the house for visitors, so I’ll pass. For now! And choose a brighter subject.

Well it actually rained nearly every day for the first three weeks of March, which dampened  spirits a bit, and caused more than my usual amount of procrastination, particularly in regard to getting out and getting some exercise.  The rain was just bloody  unpredictable, so you’d never know when you went out if you were going to get drenched or sunburnt.

One day, after whingeing A LOT on Twitter (as BushBabe will attest) I kicked myself in the backside (with a bit of assistance from across cyberspace), grabbed the camera, and headed down to the beach.

No hat, no sunnies, no sunscreen – because it was like this,

Water had been falling out of that sky about 15 minutes earlier.

“Just get wet”, said BushBabe.
So I sucked it up, and decided that I could get wet and still live.
Shoes on, and out the door. Just like that.

But THIS  is what I got instead
(along with a VERY sunburnt face, neck and shoulders):

Rain? What rain?
Continue reading

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There was movement at the station…

Well, I’ve managed a new photo up top there. That’s something, isn’t it?

Slothing kids on summer school holidays, and Australian Open tennis on one’s still-a-novelty widescreen telly aren’t conducive to much in the way of writing action.

The good news is that school holidays are over! They’re back at school (two yesterday, one today). Which means that pretty soon I’ll regain my headspace! Mind you after a 5km walk this morning, there wasn’t much action of any sort around here. Except that I got my bike out and rode 5km (to pick up the car I’d dropped off earlier at the mechanic’s).. and that I started back at my Friday night swim squad.

Otherwise- I’m such a procrastinator!

Weekend tomorrow, then business as usual from Monday. Which may or may not result in more frequent blogging!

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Filed under it's just another manic mum day, like, whatever, lost in procrastination

Missing my comfy slippers

My desktop computer is not well. She is alive… but the Computer Doctor (aka Himself) says that her condition is unstable. She is on the transplant waiting list – awaiting a replacement motherboard and processor. Best not to interact with her, he said, or she might crash completely. (Not risking doing that to my hard drive!)

Still, I have, now, two computers on which I can still do my stuff.   Well, 3 if I counted the new laptop that was bought for Ms 16, (and which I have been promised use of on Saturday night so I can disappear “upstairs” and let the sleepover gang have the run of the downstairs loungeroom and TV.)  Four if I was extremely desperate and could wait till Himself is ever at home and use his laptop.  I wouldn’t die from not getting my internet fix, is what I’m saying…

He got the kids’ computer up and going again, and there is this spare ‘on-loan’ laptop I’m currently using.

So .. I’m doing ok, you know. Two computers to use! Doin’ well.

But.. it’s just not the same!

I miss my computer. I miss the ergonomics of it, the way it felt ‘just right’.

I’ve got my cordless mouse going on this laptop, but at the moment the only place for the laptop is on the dining room table, and it’s not the right height.

And I can’t figure out why the kids always preferred their desktop over mine. Must be a video card thing, but the font looks crappier, despite the monitor being exactly the same as mine. (The words look like they’ve been printed on an old dot matrix printer – that’s how bad it looks in comparison!)

And the roll out tray doesn’t come all the way out for some reason, so the keyboard position is crap, and the mouse is crap… and so I’m just not … comfortable when I’m using it.

And I’m having to deal with emails via my webmail, instead of via Outlook.  I can’t get to all my photos and the like. And I’m going to have to do some fiddling to get Dreamweaver and Filezilla going, so I can update netball and BUG websites.

All of that is doable, if not a bit of a pain. But for some reason all this.. un-rightness.. plays up with my creative energy or something.  When I try to write, I am just not ‘in the zone’.   I don’t feel like there is the right interaction between me, the keyboard and the words on the screen.

It’s like.. trying to do housework in the clothes I go out in.  It’s like… trying to cook in an unfamiliar kitchen. It’s like getting around in someone else’s shoes. Or slippers!

It’s just not… right!

What a finicky wuss!

Himself said he can hook up my hard drive to the kids’ computer. And we can move it to MY desk, with MY keyboard, and probably even set up Outlook. (If he gets a chance before he disappears for 3 days this weekend for a Touch football tournament.)

Meanwhile, forgive me if I appear to be not .. quite.. all … here….

++++

Later:  My girls just read this post, and have protested! “You’re not going to move OUR computer to YOUR desk!”…

And the biggest one called me a Princess.

Can you believe that?!!

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And so what have we learned this week?

I’ve learned…

.. that my desktop computer really hates me. (Or the universe hates me, or something…) This morning it froze with the wallpaper pic loaded, but no sys tray, and then subsequent rebooting didn’t even get me that far. [Computer Bloke tried a few things but had to head off to work.. so it’s back to the spare laptop for me.]  It’s barely a month since it mucked up BIG TIME before.  [insert sad face here]

.. that if I have to get up at 3.45 am to drive a daughter to the bus (for a Yr 11 student Brisbane universities reconnaissance excursion) that, even though I eventually get back to sleep, I’ll be much like a zombie for the rest of the day. And have really weird dreams between 5 am and 7.30am. Yesterday was thus a strange day.

.. that maybe the Universe is trying to send me a ‘get off the bloody internet’ message, because this laptop suddenly went into hibernation mode on me in the middle of typing this. (The fact that all this stuff was still here when I got back is, however, obviously a sign that it’s still ok for me to do a blog post..)

.. that I can cook something new after all. (Even totally-uninspired-over-cooking me!) With some donated kingfish fillets in the freezer, Himself had been expressing a desire to have a fish curry of some sorts. I looked up recipes (and went ‘arrgh, I don’t know about this curry paste lark’), but eventually I found a recipe that looked easy (with some twitter tips from a friend) and calculated the amount of curry paste juuuust right (for me and the kids anyway).  Took the opportunity to cook it  last night when the 16 yr old seafood hater was away.   It was a big SUCCESS all round, and we’ve decided when I make it again when Herself is here we’ll just pretend that it’s chicken.  (Sshhhh!)

.. that my husband can be a pain in the butt. (Well, actually that’s nothing new, this is just another example.) When I said ‘Aren’t I good to you, darling – you wanted me to make this, so Idid’, he said ‘No, I’m good to you, because I’ve helped you expand your horizons with cooking something out of your comfort zone.’

.. that I’m losing the plot, because I’ve picked up more tablets during the week from the chemist, and then realised this morning that I wasn’t out of them after all.

.. that I will never appreciate it when Himself says in the morning (like this morning) – “Um… have you organised dinner for tonight yet? Because, um… I have to go out for work.”  Well, in fact, I did have stuff organised, something reasonably nice, actually,  and I am more than a little pissed off about yet another night that he’s not home for dinner, and yet another time when he’s given me late notice that he won’t be home.

.. that if you go to an AGM, you’re bound to end up offering to do some executive position.  Duh! After all, the conscience that drove you to the meeting in the first place is going to ensure that you can’t sit there in a poorly attended P & C meeting while they list all the vacant positions and say ‘We’ll just have to list them in the newsletter and see if we get any takers…”  (Say hello to the Secretary of the primary school P & C.)

.. that it takes more than the annoyance of having to stuff around with a spare laptop to get the message that maybe I should be using today to GET SOMETHING DONE AROUND HERE.

OK.. not as funny as Rove, but it’s the best I can offer with my zombie brain right now.  Doing a post means I’ve now NO  excuse but to get up and do something constructive!

‘Say hello to your mum for me…’

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Filed under it's just another manic mum day, lost in procrastination