Tag Archives: getting things done anyway


The work piece got done. I have more, there’s a glitch and it’s being fixed (above my paygrade).

The kitchen has a temporary counter, a piece of plywood, covering the dishwasher and a drawer unit while DH figures out the necessary changes. The new dishwasher wouldn’t go in the space where the dish drawer had been: it’s too high and wide. So… the nuking began.

The writing piece has been completely reviewed by my co-editor: comments made and corrections applied. After > 10 years working on the piece, I am both relieved to have it done and terrified because it’s done.

Other things pending: waiting for the reviewer at a site to tell us who he wants the book file to go for the last book to get it reviewed.

I made some $ from the new online job. Hurrah!

Life is in flux, and stressy accordingly: new online job changes, writing project changes, and kitchen demolition.

My plan is that after the book project goes to the publisher mid-month, I will seriously start working on the cleaning plan and the house. I will have the other, biggest, long-term project complete, so it’s about time, right?

(Excuse me while I freak out!)

For a long time I didn’t understand why I was so afraid of finishing things? I talked to my therapist about it. She said, “If you finished something, it was subject to attack by the Abuser, right? It was much safer for you to not finish things, then she’d attack you for being lazy and/or not finishing things, but you controlled that and it wasn’t a surprise.”

Which made total sense.

The panic/terror of finishing things applies to the house cleaning. Also it’s part of the PTSD, not wanting to be too visible, because you see yourself as a target.

If I think about what I’m doing, really think about it, I will totally panic. I’m not letting myself think about the big picture, just the little one. Just getting the next step done; that’s all.

But I’m running out of road.

end of road

(Image from JimmyBuiPhotography.com, via images.google.com)


The way I have to do things (or always have in the past). . . this is what I did this morning.

  • Put plastic dj protectors on two books. Try to get them into mailers. I need bigger mailers. Decide we can’t mail these on the way to the mechanic’s shop.
  • Take the car to the mechanic for repair/inspection.
  • Come home. Wash and dry the lime basil. Salt some of it. Saute some of it in olive oil.
  • Work on knitting project.
  • Read email.
  • Work on knitting project.
  • Clean next batch of basil, Thai basil this time.
  • Cull 2 skeins of yarn from my office and put them in the “swap shop” bin.
  • Dry basil.

Before I got up from the computer when I wrote this, I opened one of the short story files. Went downstairs, worked on the knitting, then went for a walk with DH. Came back, worked on the story, then the retype of the memoir. Then went to the pantry and started reorganizing and straightening it, which is overdue.

Yes, things get done this way. Yes, it keeps the panic down and the panic used to stop me cold. But it’s ridiculous! Why can’t  I just decide I’m going to work on food preservation for an hour or two and do all the basil? Why can’t I schedule an hour for knitting? Or writing?

The really bizarre thing about this is that this doesn’t happen when I’m working for someone else. But at home? I’m a task bumblebee, dancing around: buzz-buzz-buzz.

bee dance

Absurd, isn’t it?