*See what a good influence Jen T. is on me? Because you know that's not what I really wanted to write there.
Here's something I used to love to do, particularly when I was in college:
Schedule something- a class, for instance, or a time I was supposed to go to the gym- and then? Don't go. Here's the logic behind that: it's like STOLEN TIME. You were supposed to be doing something else, but you- scandalously- decided not to. Now, anything you decide to do during that time is approximately 100% more fun because you're doing it when you're not supposed to. I'm not kidding. Try calling in sick and cleaning your house. It's amazing. It's like you somehow CREATED more time. Nevermind the fact that the only one holding you accountable for going to the gym was you- you're overthinking it. One of my favorite all-time activities is going to Target when I'm supposed to be somewhere else. It's a cheap thrill.
This was fun for a very long time- and continues to be fun from time to time even today- but somewhere along the line it lost something. The problem with not showing up for something is that you don't get anything done (unless shopping at Target was what you were looking to get done, in which case it wouldn't have been fun. See? Catch-22). For instance. Have we discussed how much I love going to classes? I really do. The only thing I love more than going to class is skipping class to walk around Target. I am thinking mostly about my American Lit class my senior year of college. During my senior year of college, the Not Going to Things high was at an all-time high. This was particularly dangerous when coupled with my ability to bs my way through nearly anything. If I know 10% about anything, I can really write an essay about it that convinces you I know about the other 90%. I am not bragging about this one. It's really not cool. This is exactly why I got an A in two literature classes in which I read very close to nothing.
Here's the problem with that- I WISH I had read something. I would give ANYTHING to sit in that American Lit class and read those books and listen to the guy talk about them. The problem with passing is that you get by, but you leave with mostly nothing. Except an A. Which means nothing. So.. nothing.
This is even worse in the case of two of my favorite (and by favorite I mean difficult, frustrating things that I am completely unable to abandon, because I also love them) things- running and writing. You mostly can't BS running. You either run or you don't run. If you don't run- and walk around Target instead- you do not get better at running. You do not fit into your favorite jeans (these jeans are awesome, and I haven't worn them in a really, really long time). Perhaps more upsetting, you don't get the tshirt at the end of the race. I run for tshirts.
Everything above? Copy and paste for writing. Turns out you either write something or you don't. I don't know what that's all about, but it's true.
I do not bring all of this up as some sort of lesson to you. I bring this up as something I am maybe finally learning. My Mondays and Wednesdays this semester are sweet, and look something like this:
8-9:30 in office, blogging
9:30-11 planning, office hours
11-12:20 teaching
12:30-2 running, shower
2:30-5 writing
This is a seriously dangerous schedule. All parts above in red are times when I could potentially be walking around Target. No one is paying me to be anywhere, and no one will notice if I don't show up.
And yet...
Both Monday and Wednesday, I got home and put on my running shoes and ran 2.5 miles in the friggin windy snow. When I went outside Wednesday, I thought It is windy! Way too windy to run! And then I ran. Blah.
Blah until I got home and took a shower. There is really nothing better than a shower after you run. Except maybe eating a Dove ice cream bar on the couch while you watch (watch, not participate in) a Bob Harper kettlebell workout video. Which is what I did next. It looked hard.
After that, I dried my hair and drove to the library and sat in a study room for two hours and worked on a story, and when I was done I reserved the study room for my Mondays and Wednesdays next week.
Here is the part where my day gets awesome. It is so great to get home at the end of the day and find that you have actually done something. I would go so far as to say that getting things done, or the feeling after getting them done, might even be better than brushing them off. I hate that that's true, because how great would life be if it was the other way around, but there it is.
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