Someday Syndrome

Gotta Keep Going

Have you noticed a bit of a drop in the frequency of my posts? It's true. I've been neglecting you.

I'm bored. I'm just about to complete six rounds of the 27 categories that I set up when I started blogging. It's time for a change.

I could drop categories altogether, but then I'd never blog. I'm horrible at using the Technorati Tags. My inclination is to mark every word as a possible tag, because there are so many ways people could (and do) access my posts. I need structure to inspire me.

Perhaps I could steal existing categories from other organizing bloggers, like Janet Barclay, Monica Ricci or John Trosko. No, that won't work. Everyone has their own slant on the organizing world, so even mixing and matching from the three sites wouldn't cover all the topics in my blog.

A part of the problem is that the blog itself has shifted focus over the last nine months. I had originally intended this blog to be the jumping off point for a book. That may still happen, but the likelihood of it ever getting written is diminishing (I really prefer writing fiction).

Instead, three major themes have emerged: Procrastination, Choice and Happiness. I could use just these three words as categories, but I think that would be too limiting. How about I use the same format I did for the first set of categories: nine subcategories within each larger concept?

Yes, I like that idea. It supports the raison d'etre of the blog, follows a proven formula and yet it offers me new themes to explore.

Someday Lessons:

• Periodic change in routines injects new energy into action, but remember to keep what works.
• Talking out ideas (even to yourself) helps clarify them and keep them doable.

It Always Comes Down to Money

That's not a judgment statement. It's a fact. If we want to live in this world, we need money. The questions are how to earn it and how to spend it.

Most people think of these two questions in the order I presented them – earn then spend. But I decided to turn them around. How to spend my money and then how to earn what I need.

When I think of it that way, I realized that I actually need to earn very little. One of the main reasons I'm going nomadic and working on farms in exchange for room and board is money. If I cut out all those annoying expenses like rent and utilities, then I actually need very little. I can do quite well on what most people would consider a subsistence level income.

The only money I'll need is for spending money during days off and to support things like my website, this blog and my car.

So, now for the earning part.

In the long term, I plan on my writing providing that, but a publisher offering lots of money for an unfinished first draft of a manuscript is not something I foresee in the near future.

I've been reading a lot about monetizing blogs (i.e., making money for writing this blog). The most common ways are to put advertising on the site, or to join an affiliate program (like Amazon). But since my blog encourages NOT to buy stuff then it would be pretty hypocritical of me to include advertising, no?

I am thinking of another way, a modern version of the patron of the arts, but haven't really decided how I feel about it.

I'll let you know.

Someday Lessons:

• By turning a standard way of thinking backwards, you might surprise yourself with new thoughts or courses of action.
• You have to earn money to live, just make sure the method matches your principals.

Tag, I'm It

Today, you get to learn five obscure things about me.

Friend/colleague, Monica Ricci, tagged me with a blogging meme (basically a blog-based chain letter). I'm supposed to tell you five little-known facts about myself and then "tag" five other bloggers. The problem is I only can think of three bloggers I could tag, and Monica is one of them.

I spend at least an hour a day reading blogs and other daily websites, but I'm a lurker. I rarely say anything. When it come to the web, I'm a "say something only when it will add to the conversation" type. And saying "I agree!" or "Lookin' great!" does not add to the conversation.

I have another problem with this meme. I'm an open book. I tell everyone everything. The only things most people don't know about me aren't repeatable on a PG-rated blog (then again, most of my friends know that stuff too).

So, after digging deep, here are 5 things few people know:

1. I was insufferably pompous in high school. I only saw art house films, disdained popular culture, and smoked More Lights (long thin dark brown American cigarettes).
2. My word geekiness extends to PennyPress and Dell variety puzzle magazines. Many times I've considered a subscription.
3. For all my love of food, my last meal would be at a diner: cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate shake (I'm thinking The Stem on Queen West in Toronto).
4. My childhood dream careers were rock star, ballet dancer and/or acrobat (okay fine, they're my adult dream jobs too).
5. I almost did mathematics in university but University of Toronto only had applied mathematics at the time. And I hate word problems. Math is a language to me, why confuse things by mixing it with another language?

There, so,now I'm tagging:

• Cordelianne
• Janet Barclay and
• Anyone else who's interested.

Someday Lesson:

• You can't expect people to react to you if you don't do or say anything to get them involved.

A Change Junkie

I get bored easily.

It goes hand in hand with my lack of patience.

This is why I live in the future and not in the now. If I don't have "What next?" lined up, daily living bores me into total inactivity.

If I want to get anything done today or tomorrow, I need to have several months from now in my mind. That future may (actually, will) change a dozen times before I get there, but it's there like a carrot enticing me forward.

My efforts to live in the now (saying "I don't know" about my future) exhausted me, left me lethargic and slightly sad. Like I had no future.

I've been too weighed down by the now to actually live in it. I've decided that it's unrealistic to ask myself to not plan for one or more futures. There are so many bits and bobs that need to get done every day, that when I focus on them solely, I get despondent.

"How boring," I think, looking at another day of cooking, walking, writing, laundry, dishes, and cleaning.

But with a variety of futures planned out, I look at today with enthusiasm and can actually get through the routine in contentment.

If you're really curious about the possible futures I see, send me an email alex (at) housetherapy.net

Someday Lessons:

• Don't expect to be happy if you aren't true to yourself.
• I am a change junkie and live for the next new thing – who are you?

Lunch Today:
Baked potatoes stuffed with lamb, green peppers and onion.

Hiding Behind (In)Activity

I hate cleaning.

I can procrastinate a whole day away not cleaning. I hide from my dirty house through TV, the internet, phone calls and "planning". I put the last one in quotes because that type of planning isn't productive. It's a time waster and nothing more.

I also hide from my writing. Not this stuff, the blogging. I have people reading  updates with their morning coffee each day. I have an audience and, being a Leo, I thrive in front of an audience (even a cyber one).

No, I hide from my creative writing, but which I mean my fiction writing. I am so my parents' child. My dad isn't an artist because he just draws what sees, he can't create from imagination. My mom isn't an artist because she's purely technical in what she does. And I'm not an artist because I just write a blog, which is really only a form of exhibitionistic verbal masturbation. A blog isn't creative the way fiction is.

I hope none of you bought that load of crap just above. My parents are artists and I am too. But I use lines like that to hide. Fiction writing stretches me in new ways. It makes me vulnerable. It's therefore scary and I hide from it. And since it's writing, I cover myself with words, hoping I won't be seen behind the psychobabble of rationalizations.

I just need to write fiction and keep writing it until it's as easy for me as this blog is. I'll stop whining now.

Oh, and I've figured out how to stop avoiding housework. I'm hiring a cleaning service.

Someday Lessons:

1. Don't fill your life just to avoid dealing with the real stuff.
2. Take a risk and do something scary.

(And here is a way of getting over procrastination by Alexander Becker: How to Double Your Productivity with the Escalation Principle)

Lunch Today:
Leftover pizza (the egg thing: still good even when reheated).

Culture Shock (Part One)

This past weekend, I had to wait for my ship to come in – and I was on it!

My friend and I went river rafting on Saturday. The main raft was full up with an extended family so we booked a canoraft (canoe plus dinghy equals a two person blow up raft). The family was great (and no I'm not going to say more about nice French people), including us in their jokes and fun right away.

I enjoyed myself, until about four o'clock when I started to lose patience. All day long the family had been physical, pushing each other out of the raft, tipping us out of our canoraft, and generally being silly. My friend and I gave as good as we got. After lunch, we gave the canoraft to others to try and we joined the larger raft. Despite minor language problems, a good time was had by all.

Being a conscientious Canadian, I noticed that the guide kept looking at his watch and encouraging us to go more quickly. So I put my back into it (actually my shoulder, which is still sore!) and got more tired. But I kept paddling.

Not so the family. As more of them tired, they stopped paddling, making it more difficult for those of use who were working. Of course if the raft had been full of WASPy Canadians, we would have buckled down the moment the guide had even hinted at an increased effort.

The uptight Canadian in me thought "C'mon people! I want to get home! We're late!" The newly emerging Frenchman in me responded with "Relax! We're having fun." But the tired cranky uptight WASP won out and I descended into culture shock.

As much as I wanted to scream and yell and get the raft moving, I knew I couldn't. Why ruin their fun just because I was tired?

I wanted our ship to come in and could have tried to be optimistic that they'd all clue into the time and start paddling harder, but I had to accept reality. And the reality in this instance was that we'd get home when the river current decided to get us there.

As soon as I could see Sauveterre's skyline, I hopped out of the raft and swam the rest of the way back. Instead of having a fit, I bided my time until I could get home on my own.

I was free! And a whole lot less cranky.

Someday Lessons:

1. There are no hard rules. What is optimistic and what is realistic depend entirely on the context of a situation.
2. Always look for new actions that will make you feel optimistic again.

Lunch Today:
Pork and Potato Yogurt Curry that was tasty but the potatoes didn't cook properly (so no recipe today).