Will: http://twitter.com/dubtea/status/1471695951
(for you non twitters: So, it would appear the Zombie Apocalypse begins in Metairie: http://tinyurl.com/dyft2d)
me: i totally said the same thing about the arm chomping thing when I heard about it
Will: if i had that AR-15, maybe i wouldnt have to use you as bait ;)
me: yeah.. uh huh
I had another one of those moments that I haven’t started writing about yet (since I’m a procrastinator and all). Those times that make you laugh at yourself, or maybe even smile on the outside too.
Moment of the day: Leaving work just before midnight (on a Sunday nonetheless), cruising down River Road. Bizarre Love Triangle plays as part of the”All 80’s Weekend” on the car radio and I started dancing around so much that I actually slowed down. Most people I know speed up when they get excited while driving. I even did the overly exaggerated “glow stick dance” that the Molly Ringwalds do when they play the song.
Yeah… I’m smiling at myself. You don’t have to!
I saw a print out on the bed today with huge letters at the top that read “The Cult of Done Manifesto”. Scattered next to it was a pretty, mostly white piece of paper with lots of little drawings of Rubik’s cubes in it. So I picked it up and started reading. Will thought I would get mad because I might think he was taking a shot at me for never getting anything done.
I never did finish my design manifesto. I started it in my final semester at LSU (…slowly creeping into the latter half of my 5th year as a “professional” graphic designer) and I never finished my manifesto. I started it at least twice. I guess I could never decide what design was… or I never felt original enough to come up with a design manifesto that could stand up against my classmates’ work. (Some how or another, I passed Senior Design with an A anyway.)
I googled “Done is the Engine of More” (the huge letters at the bottom of the print out that was on the bed) and found one of the author’s blogs online. Come to find out, this little project was done in only 20 minutes. I can’t remember the last time I could even get -started- on a project in 20 minutes. I feel a little uninspired and like I’ll never get any better at anything that has to do with design work.
I -am- a procrastinator. I get easily distracted. My home office has sat half completed since July…
Maybe I should see if my co-workers want to play a 20 minute design challenge at work during lunch one day. It might shake things up from the day to day work of selling conveyor belting and processing equipment…. At least every so often I get to do something, a-heh, -fun- for roller derby.
I guess I better go work on that logo concept, logo redo and logo variation (three different clients) that I wanted to get started on before the weekend.
me: sooo… you didn’t survive the zombie apocalypse this time around
Will: ?
me: yeah, you got bit
I had to fend for myself
Will: Your dream was incorrect
me: :)
Alright, it’s that time, the beginning of the new year, or as Will might say, “Happy New Month… we get 12 a year you know.” I don’t know if these are really resolutions so much as they are reVolutions. Let’s see if I can make a difference in my productivity this 1/12 of the year.
1. Obey the clock
I’ve slipped into this delusion over the past couple of years that I can press snooze as often as I want and that I can get anywhere in 10 minutes. This morning I even went as far as to turn my first alarm OFF because I thought it was Sunday. I think this is maybe why I have at least two alarms set at staggered times (I’m about to add a third one, but I sense that would be the beginning of the end of my relationship). No matter how much time I think it could take me to get to work, it takes me 25 minutes, maybe 22 on a good day. If I want to be on time to work, I need to leave the house no later than 6:35. What I have failed to realize is that getting downstairs at 6:35 and being in the car with the engine started at 6:35 are two different things. I also seem to think that walking the dog takes negative 3 minutes because I never allow for the 5-7 minutes that it actually does take. Lately the dog’s just been annoying because he won’t come downstairs when I’m ready to walk him… polar opposite of when he used to start whining at 5:15 and biting my hand by 5:30. Maybe he finally realized that it’s pointless to try to get me out of bed before I’m damn well ready, no matter how freaking cute you are.
Anyway… this morning, after the first failed attempt, I was up and the shower was running by 5:35am. If the dog were to cooperate, he would have been out the door for his walk at 6:31… but it took me 5 minutes to get him down the stairs.*
Remedy: Clocky, in raspberry.
2. Reduce distractions, both incoming and outgoing
I have a bad habit of saying things out loud as they come to mind. Sometimes this sparks a quick conversation among co-workers. Other times it just passes and everyone thinks I’m weird. This has been since always in my design jobs. I remember as far back as working on the LSU yearbook and constantly distracting people from their work, as well as getting easily distracted. Some people might call me a chatta box. I’monna work on that. I do it via IM too, but Will seems to be less and less tolerant of my virtual interruptions lately. Maybe THAT’s what the big deal with twitter is…
This doesn’t just happen at work. Yesterday my plan was to get home, walk dog, wii fit for at least 45 minutes, cook dinner, practice piano. I got home, watched a hulu episode of Family Guy, walked the dog, watched a little more Family Guy, wii fitted for 45 minutes, cooked dinner, hulued a The Office episode, half ass cleaned, walked the dog again for a long fun walk (instead of those “hurry up and do your business” walks), myspaced for 30 minutes, BERG boarded for another 15, slowly ascended upstairs, pulled out the piano book, looked at the book for 15 minutes, went to bed… late.**
Remedy: headphones at work… and I’m not so sure what to do about home except to have will change the internet password and not tell me. I could try to pull a Pistolette, but I think I might just be setting myself up for failure.
With all this might come getting to some freelance projects that I need to work on AND that book making thing that I want to get in to so desperately.
*Insert 30 minutes of distraction… right about here.
**See Obey the Clock.
This made me almost spit my coffee out this morning. Current temperature: 34°F
From: Will <…>
Date: Mon, Dec 22, 2008 at 8:01 AM
Subject: *ahem*
To: sherri…Dear Ms. Gets-up-before-everyone-else,
If the bedroom is in the 50’s when you wake up, please kick on the heater.
Sincerely,
Your-cold-boyfriend-and-dog.
I made my donation to Toys for Tots today.
How about you?
You can also drop toys off at many locations!
And so ends my four day free for all. It sure doesn’t feel like I should have to go to work tomorrow. I sure am tired of being a grown up. Today without a hangover would have been nice too.
For some reason on Thanksgiving day, Will couldn’t drive us to my mothers in the most direct path to save his life. I was accused of being contagious, what with all my absent mindedness floating about. I think I really am starting to rub off on my particularly smart and logical boyfriend (your face!).
I don’t know what all the fuss is about with the Friday after thanksgiving shopping either. We unintentionally wound up in a couple of different stores after buying our first full size, real Christmas tree for the house. Linens and Things, Pier One, Wold Market… all places I thought might be a little crazy were almost dead. Maybe we were there too late. It was, after all 10am. Most door buster deals are at 5am, so I hear.
Anyway, then the Molly Ringwalds played at Southport. Anyone who knows me well knows that even on a Tuesday night I don’t ever get home until after midnight. I strolled in Sunday morning in the wee hour of almost 5am. The show was fun. Everyone did a costume change at some point in the night. It made it interesting. Not that I need anything else to hold my interest… I just had to focus really hard on not slipping on the alcohol soaked floor in my three inch red heels.
So, 4:45ish isn’t a terrible time to roll in to bed, unless of course you HAVE to go to practice at 8am because you’re running it. No I didn’t choose this practice. I’m a TT captain and it was a TT practice, therefore… bleh. I warned the people in charge that I would be there, but I would be hung over. I totally held up my end of the deal. The alcohol didn’t start seeping out of my poors until about halfway through the practice when I started running around (off skates) to keep up with the skaters and offer feedback. I basically kicked the asses of the 15 or so people who actually showed up to practice today.
Anyway, then the Molly Ringwalds played at Southport. No I’m not repeating myself. There were no big crowds and sloshy floors. They were filming a new video and I think I got conned into being there earlier this week before I remembered that I’d be dealing with a day long hangover. It was open to anyone who wanted to come. In the end, there were more people on stage than in the crowd for the “crowd shots”. My waving and clapping hands are gonna be famous. Now if only I can find my hand twin… we’d make millions.
There was also an LSU game and a Saints game in there somewhere. Both were loses and I didn’t watch either game in its entirety anyway.
And this is where I begin to fade. I’m tired, but I thought of a clever blog title and even though I couldn’t come up with anything else clever or more meaningful to say except recounting this weekend’s schedule, I’m writing something anyway.
Now I’m going to get myself back on track with my piano practice, so nite-nite.
P.S. Completely random: I luv my puppy :) Even though I hate walking him first thing in the morning… and the sound of him licking himself grosses me out. He’s just being a dog. That’s what Will keeps saying.
I’m on Day 7 since I cracked open Alfred’s Basic Piano Library – Basic Adult Piano Course Book Level One, and put a full new set of batteries in the Yamaha PSR-2 (No, I swear there’s not a number missing from he model#… it’s just -2. I can’t even find a page to link to it, but there’s currently a PSR-3 on ebay for 25 bucks).
I have done at least 15 minutes a day for 6 of those (I think I skipped Sunday). I can warm up both my left and right hands, I can clap my beats and I know where the E is on the treble clef… I know, amazing, right?
How far is that in the book? Well, page 14. I dabbled with intervals tonight. The hardest part is that I know how to play some of these songs in the book (from when I’d sound out single notes as a kid), so forcing myself to learn the notes and where they are on the brace is my biggest challenge. (Look at me using fancy music words!)
I’ve been using online flash cards to help recognize notes and that has been like trying to get a 12 year old Sherri to practice spelling because I already knew it all (This turned out to be my first C ever and my only one until I got to college — it only got worse when in high school, I once again thought I could learn French without studying and brought home a midterm report card with a big fat “F” (and no, that’s not ‘F’ for French)).
I kind of understand enough to know that I have a lot to learn.
These days, I have my eye on this one. I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to even THINK about it until I’ve made it to my 21 days and then some (according to some work “listening” seminar, it takes 21 days to form a habit). Oh, and when I have the bank account for it too.
Dog walking has become the first thing I do in the morning instead of the last thing I do before I leave the house. It holds me accountable for the number of times I press the snooze button instead of getting mad at the dog for making me late out the door. Well, I was still getting annoyed this morning because it was cold… and Boz wouldn’t just do his business.
I was fussing something at him like, “If you’re not gonna go, then we’re gonna go.” (I enjoy speaking to the dog as though he’s a small child that might one day understand and respond to all the complicated phrases that I ‘bark’ at him on a daily basis.) Anyway, as I’m walking down Dauphine, my eyes and mind concentrated on the dog doing doo-dooties, I look up and what do I see? Well, THE Oscar Meyer Weinermobile of course…
How random… in a historic neighborhood with stoops and wooden windows. My eyes lit up like a kid last Christmas morning (this year Santa’s mutual funds ate the big one and even though coal is much more affordable than last year, you won’t even get that in your stocking). I just laughed at myself because my crabby morning mood was crushed by a big yellow and red weenie! It’s definitely much more stimulating than the occasional faint sweet smell that drifts down from the Hubig’s Pie factory, but hey, that’s become the norm.
