Pickles & Dimes

My newish haircut has many layers I don’t remember requesting, so it closely resembles a mullet if I don’t spend time on it, much to my lazy chagrin. As a result, I’ve been trying to curl it more often. The first time I did, it was HORRIBLE. Just awful. I could not have looked worse if I tried. I had no idea what went wrong, so I resorted to watching online tutorials — on how to curl my hair. Now it looks great until my stupid, fine, limp, straight hair decides it’s too weak to hold a curl, so even if I leave home feeling and looking good, I always return home defeated and disheveled:

We have a queen-sized bed and lately it’s been feeling a little cramped. I’ve even been waking up with numb body parts (today I woke up, got out of bed and almost fell to the floor because my entire left leg was asleep). I think maybe it has a little something to do with this:

I didn’t really make any resolutions this year, thanks to a recently discovered character flaw: If I write something down, I achieve it.

This might not seem like a flaw, but trust me, it is.

Last year I wrote down a bunch of things I wanted to do in a little book, each task accompanied by a charming little checkbox I could mark upon completion with a self-satisfied, “DONE.”

And that worked — for awhile. January 2011 blurred by in a flurry of New Year Productiveness. Call 401(k) dude: check. Make doctor’s appointment: check. Organize closets: Check. Back up computer files: CHECK.

But as I got rid of the easy, quick stuff, my list began to serve as less of a reminder of how I was kicking butt and more of how I was Failing To Do Things. I had written down tasks that couldn’t be performed until the weather warmed up or I had acquired large chunks of money or free time. So they just sat there on the list, bothering me with their unchecked-off-ness.

It got the point where I was stressing out over the things I couldn’t do. They were on the list — they must be achieved!

That’s going to change this year.

There are still things I want to accomplish, naturally. I’m just not going to document them and plan them down to every last detail. And I’m not going to feel the impending, self-imposed deadlines looming over me.

Basically, I’m going to spend less time planning and more time doing. And because I’m never going to have all the free time I keep waiting for, I’m going to do whatever I can each day to work toward my goals.

I’m taking a cue from Swistle’s drop in the bucket method.

Each day, I’m going to do one small thing.

For example, in 2012, I want to get fit.

So yesterday, I ran 4.35 miles.

One small thing.

I’ve been dithering over getting a wireless router for months. Today I finished researching my options and decided on which one to buy.

One small thing.

I need to go through my filing cabinet and shred all the pieces of unnecessary paper. Instead of doing it all in one miserable, dealing-with-a-teeny-paper-shredder swoop, I’m going to bring 2-3 folders into work (where we have a HUGE shredding bin) each day until I’m done.

One small thing.

I have a scarf that’s ¾ finished that I’ve been avoiding for weeks, waiting for the perfect afternoon of free time to finish it. That’s never going to happen. But if I do a few rows a night, I’ll be done in a week.

One small thing.

I want to eat better and be more mindful of what I’m putting on my plate.

Yesterday I had an apple with my sandwich instead of my usual chips.

One small thing.

I can accomplish so many things if I stop focusing on ALL the things that need to be done and just start with one small thing.

So here’s to a big 2012.

Did you ever play with paper dolls? I never really had “official” paper dolls, but I spent hours cutting out people from the Sears catalog, outfitting them with all kinds of clothes and even arranging their tiny hands around lawnmowers, patio furniture and tool sets. When it came to paper doll-making, the Sears catalog was the way to go, man.