Losing It. . . Again!

My cell phone has been missing for three days.  This time.

So if my sister is calling to see how I'm managing with the problem I called to cry on her shoulder about on Sunday, she isn't getting through.

And if the library wants me to come pick up a book I ordered, I don't know about it.

And if I want to call my mom to reinforce the cell phone training we did last week--which I do--I CAN'T because the only place I recorded her cell phone number is IN MY PHONE!   Aaaarrrggggghhhhhhh!

Publisher's Clearinghouse can't notify me of winnings, publishing houses can't reach me to beg for my half-finished novel, life is passing me by.  But not my phone.  It knows who's calling.  It's storing the texts and the voice mail.

Clearly, the thing has legs.  And no conscience.

Clearly, I have a problem.

The men in my life don't seem to experience this major life dilemma with anywhere near the frequency that it befalls me.  I think it's because of the reliability of pockets in men's pants.  And the lack of purses.  And, I admit it, my own gypsy nature.  There are just too many places where I non-routinely stash the stupid thing, and too many places where I use it, and hence too many locations to toss when it goes AWOL.

I've reached the phase of phone-disappearance where I'm about to move from the desultory searching mode, which followed the initial frantic pursuit, into the more laissez-faire approach.  Phone?  What phone?  Did I used to have a phone?  What was I doing with such a thing?  Eventually, if the past is any predictor, this will conclude with serendipitous discovery.  Oh look, a phone.  Wow, it has pictures of familiar people, an address book of names I know, and some of my favorite music!

Until then, I guess it's just me and the land line.  And the few numbers I can still remember.

Procrastinating 101: Time for the Mad Hatter to Grow Up?

Today, we begin a new venture on Procrastinating 101.  We will spend the next several Tuesdays digesting and learning from the book Never Be Late Again:  7 Cures for the Punctually Challenged, by Diana DeLonzor.  

I have chosen this book from the stack of life-fixing volumes on my shelf because it reflects my sudden, and many would say, late interest in being more timely.  According to the back cover, I am promised discovery of:

• The root causes of lateness and procrastination 

• How anxiety, time perception, and adrenaline affect time management 

• The most common mistakes late people make [I'm presuming she doesn't mean late, as in deceased]
  

• Tips for overcoming the psychological obstacles that hold [me] back 

• 7 unique and simple secrets to successfully managing [my] time

 This speaks to me.  Unfortunately.

As does this handy list at the beginning of the book's first section:

THE DOZEN BEST EXCUSES FOR BEING LATE

1. I'm trying to break this perfectionist image.
2. Wasn't it Einstein who first said time is relative?
3. Why do we need labels like "late"?  Can't we all just get along?
4. I was busy planning a surprise party for you.
5. Really, I don't feel tardy.
6. My biorhythms are off.
7. Existentially speaking, how can you prove I'm late?
8. I'm protesting the oppressive nature of clocks.
9. Explain this whole "late" concept to me again.
10. I thought you might want some time alone.
11. I was born late, you know.
12. Mentally, I was here twenty minutes ago.
    

So, how many of these have you used?  I confess to uttering something close to #s 1, 2, 3, 8 and 11 out loud.  I'm not saying how many others I've muttered under my breath, or thought inwardly.  It would seem that I am "punctually challenged."  Hence, the reading assignment.

I love following advice from those who've been there, so I was charmed by the harrowing tale with which Ms. DeLonzor begins the book's introductory chapter, "Running Late."  It related her own experience of "crashing" a wedding procession because of lateness, a story embarrassingly reminiscent of something I lived through.  Unlike Ms. DeLonzor, I didn't end up blocking the bride's access to the center aisle, but, along with my carful of family members, I held up my brother's wedding by a half hour.  My entire family has a legacy of embracing lateness, and claiming to find it humorous, but I can assure you, our new in-laws weren't laughing.  And because my brother was marrying into a Baptist family, we couldn't slosh our way to amnesty at the reception. 

But enough about me.  Lest we think that Ms. DeLonzor's opening account was an exception, there's this:

I am a former card-carrying member of the punctually challenged, and punctuality used to be my Achilles heel.  I was suspended three times in junior high school for tardiness.  I've been late for surprise parties, client presentations, court appearances, and classes for which I was the instructor.  Planes, graduations, and funerals have left, started, and ended without me. 

I like this woman already.  I know this woman.  I am this woman.  (And so, apparently, are 15 to 20 percent of the U.S. population--though some of them are men.)


And since she purports to have left her tardy habits behind, maybe she can show me how.  And she doesn't underestimate the difficulty of reform.

Resisting that sudden urge to make the bed, unload the dishwasher, water the plants, or finish a newspaper article can be nearly impossible.

(As it was this morning.)


DeLonzor cites research showing that "the late" differ from our more timely counterparts on measures of anxiety and distractibility (we have more of both, of course), and self-esteem and self-discipline (less, naturally).  And she, and others, have found that "lateniks" consistently underestimate the passage of time, while those who show up on time overestimate it. But her main contention is that we get something out of being late, and until we understand what that something is, no amount of organization or time management will help us change.


Previewing the rest of the book, DeLonzor pledges to motivate the reader to change her/his delinquent ways, and to provide tips and exercises to achieve this.  

[I]f you practice the techniques in this book on a daily basis and stay committed, your days of rushing, apologizing, and excuses will be over, and you'll embrace a new, more effective way of managing your time and your life.

Sounds good.  I guess.  But what about drama?  Oh wait, could that be what I'm getting out of my Mad Hatter act?

Done for the Week: No Place Like Home

I am beginning this new week wiped out from the previous one.  And for some reason, the coming week's schedule was apparently fashioned by demons.  It calls for super energy, and warp speed.  Starting from my present rag doll state, that will be something of a trick.


Squeezed in around ten hours of plane travel and a couple of large last-minute projects, I managed to get the following done last week:

Done for the Week:  Sept. 12-18, 2011

1. Continued 5K training with my youngest son, in preparation for his first race--Finished Week 3 of 9 Week program
2. Ran 2 times; walked once with my sister, once with my daughter
3. Continued strength training
4. Read A Curtain of Green, and Other Stories, by Eudora Welty
5. Continued to work my two part-time jobs 
6. Provided technical assistance to nonprofit organization
7. Published 1 blog post
8. Continued significant work on current clients' projects
9. Attended Board meeting
10. Traveled to New Orleans; spent 5 days with family
11. Took my Mom out for lunch
12. Took my Mom to the movies
13. Helped my Mom dig out from under paper avalanche
14. Had dinner with my sister and my nephew
15. Did laundry
16. Took my dog to the dog park, with my oldest son
17. Had lunch out with my oldest son
18. Continued reading Elizabeth George's In Pursuit of the Proper Sinner aloud with my husband
19. Went out for Happy Hour with my husband

Last week's "most important thing" was traveling to New Orleans to spend time with my mother and my sister.  My visit was enjoyable, but not especially relaxing.  For one thing, there's the long-distance-daughter guilt, which I generally treat by full-tilt grappling with all manner of problems and dilemmas in my 83-year-old mother's life.  And then there's the time-bending--the exhausting effort to love and relate every minute of my abbreviated stays.  Add in the continuing adjustment to my dad's absence, and the pull to spend time with my caregiving sister, and the wrench of leaving for an indeterminate time, and it makes for a huge expenditure of emotional energy.  Still, it was overdue, and I look forward to doing it all again as soon as I can. 

My focus goal for last week was to "be a good Buddhist, and a good daughter, and to be fully present for [my] visit."  I managed that, with the help of a lousy internet signal "borrowed" from an unknown neighbor of my mother's that made blogging, working, email-checking and skyping with my family at home a near impossibility.  

This week, my goal is to return to work on the novel I put away last winter in the midst of my state's political upheaval.  I hope to maintain a regular, if minimal writing routine.  At least until the next recall heats up, and/or my daughter's high-risk pregnancy concludes, whichever comes first. . .

Done for the Week: Heading Out Again

Once more, this morning, I am entering another of my customary liminal states--this time, the between-ness of getting ready for a trip but not yet having departed.  So I'm not really here or there, in my head.  And having just finished Jodi Picoult's Nineteen Minutes, I haven't fully returned from the disturbing world of her story to my own everyday concerns.

And I am on the cusp of a new week--looking back at what I did with the last one:

Done for the Week:  Sept. 5-11, 2011

1. Continued 5K training with my youngest son, in preparation for his first race--Finished Week 2 of 9 Week program
2. Ran 3 times; biked once 
3. Began strength training
4. Signed up for tap dancing class
5. Finished Nineteen Minutes, by Jodi Picoult
6. Continued to work my two part-time jobs 
7. Provided technical assistance to nonprofit organization
8. Published 3 blog posts
9. Attended 2 yoga classes
10. Continued significant work on current clients' projects
11. Attended Peace and Justice workshop at the Islamic Center, in observance of 9/11
12. Attended jobs meeting on transportation barriers to employment
13. Booked trip to New Orleans to visit family
14. Did laundry
15. Took my dog to the dog park, with husband and both sons
16. Continued reading Elizabeth George's In Pursuit of the Proper Sinner aloud with my husband
17. Went out for Happy Hour with my husband
18. Arranged for my asthmatic son to be seen and treated for acute bronchitis
19. Squeezed in lunch and a late night dog walk with my overworked, jet-lagged husband
20. Attended 3 hr. meeting at grandson's co-op preschool, with my daughter
21. Attended Task Force leaders' meeting, to discuss organization's website

The most important thing I got done last week was finally booking flights for this week's trip to New Orleans.  The cost of air travel these days makes it difficult to bite the bullet and ante up--to employ just a couple of metaphors.  Add to that my crowded work schedule, my husband's continual travels, and my daughter's pregnancy--which will require me to be at home on standby from October on--and scheduling this trip needed an algorithm I don't seem to have downloaded yet.  But my aging widowed mother and my best friend/sister live a thousand miles from me.  Seeing them with any frequency means biting this bullet, anteing up, and tackling the algorithmic challenge several times a year.  And once again, I (finally) did it.

Last week's focus goal was to "stick to my plan of publishing three blog posts."   I am happy to say that I met it.  But the pace of life and change, and my almost complete lack of day-to-day routine mean that keeping to my intention of posting Monday through Thursday, except for holidays and trips, will meet with frequent obstacles.  This week, I will be traveling from Tuesday through Saturday.  Thus the second week of "blog reform" is a write-off.  So I will have to resume my posting regimen next Monday, after a week's interruption.  

Of course, the habit change literature would recommend that I post this week, despite being away.  But I have little enough time to spend with my mother, and I plan to be a good Buddhist, and a good daughter, and to be fully present for our visit.  Which is my goal for the coming week. . .