Giving Yourself a Kick in the Pants
print by theloveshop
Do you know the feeling when the alarm clock goes off, you slap snooze, and you thrust your head back under the covers? The day seems unfaceable, whatever is on your to-do list insurmountable, and really, why bother getting up, when you could stay right there, in the comfort of a downy blanket and a soft pillow, and be just fine? Who cares if your entire life is confined to a mattress?
I feel the need to confess that I’ve been in a funk lately, in part because I think it might have shown through on these pages a little and in part because, hell, who hasn’t been there? It’s just a bit of a blue phase, the kind that enters when there’s work to be done and no inspiration to kick-start it; a life to be lived but beloved friends too far away to join in; a day to get through, but no charm to it. You know when the things that bring a little spring to your step start falling a bit flat? When even the coffee starts to taste just okay?
This funk, too, shall pass. I’m sure, at least, of that. But given the fact that real life is filled with obligations that can’t be ignored — kids who need to be driven to school, a boss who expects you to be at your desk by 9, writing deadlines, looming late fees, a body that will stink if you do not get it into a shower, and a soul that will shrink if you do not get it out the door to accomplish something, anything — how do you make yourself hop to it? To just — oh, how do I say this — get over yourself and get on with it?
I’m a bit of a baby. If there are unsavory duties that need to be attended to, I find it quite easy to find a reason why it can wait until tomorrow. Besides, isn’t it obvious that I am too thoroughly busy persuing Beauty! Pleasure! and Meaning!? And then, when tomorrow rolls around, I can have quite an interesting emotional excavation to determine why I feel so averse to taking out the recycling. Of course, it doesn’t really matter why I don’t want to do it, and frankly, isn’t it obvious why I would rather watch episodes of 30 Rock than schlep a stinky, clamoring garbage bag out to the curb?
The point is, life goes on, whether we always feel like engaging with it or not. And being adults — adults who know how to tend to the details in our lives — how do we pull ourselves up by our boot straps, put our nose to the grind stone, and carry on?
Perhaps there are no secret weapons. Perhaps the answer is, “you just do, because you have to.” But I wouldn’t be surprised if you all had some clever — nay, thoroughly brilliant — ways of tending to the to-dos. I really want to know. And moreover, I need to know.