Day One DONE

Okay, so that went well (first day of Whole 30). And the way I feel this morning reinforces that a paleo plan – as I've said many times previously – is the way to eat that works best for me.

I've not really been off the paleo template, but if the general rule of thumb for "cheat" days is 80 percent on/20 percent off, I'd say I'm a fallen woman. Getting back on the horse, 100 percent, both feels and sounds very good to me.

Yesterday was somewhat challenging. Breakfast was fine, as it usually is – scrambled eggs with salsa and I "baked" a chopped apple, sprinkled with cinnamon, in the microwave. For lunch, though, I had to make mayonnaise before I could make egg salad and I was in a hurry to get out and take a walk before I had to go to a meeting. So no vegetables for lunch.

Dinner was terrific – I made a chili-ish stew-ish concoction in the slow cooker with ground beef (instead of bison), sweet potatoes, tomatoes, onions, mushrooms and spices. It was great to come home from that late afternoon meeting to have dinner ready and waiting.

The bigger challenge was that after the meeting I did a major stock-up grocery trip. And I was hungry. And we all know one doesn't shop for food when one is hungry. Had I not made the Whole 30 commitment, I would totally have bought something sweet-and-carby to eat in the car on the way home.

I think making the car off-limits for food (beverages are okay, as long as the beverages are black coffee or water) would be a good rule for the long term. I'm both an emotional eater and a sneak eater, and the car facilitates both behaviors nicely.

Yesterday's meeting was supposed to have been final proof of an annual report project, with few corrections. As it turns out, there are minor corrections for 90 percent of the book. I need to get busy, baby.

Again.

I'll take my nervous breakdown now, thankyouverymuch

I'm tired. I'm tired of being busy. I'm tired of accommodating Other People. I'm tired of to-do lists and chores and things hanging over my head. It seems like I never stop, there's always another thing on the list, something undone that needs to be done now.

When life gets crazy like it is now, I either sleep too much (Friday: 10 hours; Saturday: 11 hours) or too little (last night: six hours).

The helluvit is, I bring this on myself. I'm in charge of my schedule, for the most part, and I can opt in or out of events and commitments and projects. Obviously I have opting IN down pat. It's the opting OUT I need a little help with.

My to-do list is in duplicate – one is handwritten and stuck to the refrigerator and the other is front-and-center on my Google homepage, all neat and tidy and prioritized. Only one of the 17 items on the digital list is "low" priority, and only one item is crossed off.

So what did I do all weekend? Swept and mopped the acre (well, it seems like an acre anyway) of floors in the house. Mowed three acres of "lawn." Walked, a little. Did laundry, a lot (the only reason I was able to cross off "clean the bathroom in the garage" was because the washer overflowed).

While it's satisfying to cross things off the list, I have trouble seeing the things done (maybe because there aren't very many "done" things?), and concentrate instead on the things undone, which – when it's all written out like that – is overwhelming and leads to inertia. And computer solitaire.

And then there are the normal, everyday things that aren't on either list, but which still clutter my brain: Is the milk still good enough to make yogurt? (It is.) Do I have time to bake a couple loaves of bread to stash in the freezer? (And if I do, will I have to mop the kitchen again?)

The only way this busy-ness would come to a halt is if someone died. Or had a nervous breakdown.

I'm not quite ready to kick the bucket.

P.S. If you're wondering where you, too, can get jars like empty jar #2, I found sets of them here. Crate and Barrel also sells them individually. 

Monday? Again? Already?

I need a wife, I really do. Or a time management course. Or a clone. Or Molly Maids.

What I don't need is One. More. Commitment.

I knew I was going to be busy beyond belief this spring, but I truly had no idea how that was going to look. Or feel. Well, I'm here to tell you it looks like hell – laundry gets washed, dried and folded but never seems to make it back into a dresser drawer. My floors desperately need cleaning, it's a good thing no one ever just "drops in" out here in the Middle of Nowhere. The pile of unread magazines is three months high and ready to slip off the undusted end table where they landed when I had to make room on the table to eat dinner.

How does it feel? I hate feeling this disorganized and behind. This weekend would have been a great time to do a little catching up, but I was gone all day Saturday and spent yesterday working in the yard. Not the garden, as I would have preferred. I mowed and mowed and mowed. And then I whacked weeds and watered plants.

And then I died. Heh.

Saturday's trip was one of the few easy-to-get-to places in the whole state. West Virginia is not known for ease of travel. You really can't get there from here, usually. But going to Flatwoods means getting on three major highways, zip, zip, zip. And, therefore, getting home means getting on the same three highways in reverse.

Unless you miss a turn. My 110-mile trip, which should have taken two and a half hours according to Google Maps, ended up being close to 140 miles and taking slightly more than three hours. After I missed the first exit, which would have taken me from Road One to Road Two, I rerouted the GPS and ended up driving on a one-lane hard road (very much like the twisty-turny one I live on) for probably 40 miles.

That took a while.

But it was beautiful. West Virginia really is a lovely state, and West Virginia in the spring is simply lush. Green mountains, waterfalls, wildlife. Tidy homes with amazing gardens. I have garden envy, since mine is still mostly unplanted and full of weeds.

I didn't stop to linger anywhere. My car is held together with liberal bumper stickers, and I wasn't sure of the political climate in these backwoods parts of the state. Better to keep moving and admire the view from 40 mph. But I did stop once to get a picture of New River Gorge from far, far away. It was much more stunning in person.

The next several weekends are full of one thing or another, most of them fun but some of them not so much. I will survive. I will prevail, even. And when all is said and done, I will collapse.