Here's how things go around here: I had the beginnings of a pretty good post written about how I am finally, really and truly, becoming "unstuck" from the emotional mire I'd found myself in for much of last year. I felt pretty good about what I'd written but I wasn't sure if maybe I might be oversharing, so I took a break to check on my sheet pan supper (one of my new favorite things) and when I came back Gracie Cat was sitting on the laptop like a nesting hen and my post was completely gone. It's an allegory. Oh yes, it is.
Without all the navel-gazing philosophy (not that there's anything wrong with that) what my post said is this: I need to get my shit together. I've been faced with daunting tasks that should've overwhelmed me before and I got through those just fine. Like when I peeled the ugly off of the outside of my house--two years and 40 bags of cedar shingles later, and there we were. Or when my son and I decided to demolish the ugly 1960s porch and he accidentally set it on fire a few weeks before we made a giant engineering mistake that caused the whole thing to fall out into the yard and nearly crush us and our friend Steve. All's well that ends well. Back then I wasn't fearless (my bravado in the face of haters notwithstanding) but I went ahead and did something anyway, even though I was scared or nervous or not exactly sure how to get from Point A to Point B. I did it. I figured it out and I got through it. It's not in my nature to be overwhelmed and timid but somewhere between losing WTB a couple of years ago, and then getting laid off, and then having a Greek-fucking-tragedy of a year in 2015 that's exactly what I became. So now, I need to get my shit together.
Yep, like that. More specifically, by actually doing something instead of saying with a sigh that I ought to do something. There are three medium-to-large projects that I still either want or need to do around here (refinishing two floors, redoing the square bathroom, and finishing the side porch) and one extra-large thing (my bedroom, previously known as That Thing We Don't Talk About) but all the other big stuff is done. (Until something goes wrong or falls apart.) There are probably a dozen little jobs that need to be done, things that are free or nearly free and just need a combination of days off, motivation, and good weather to be completed. None of it has a deadline.
So I have plans. Plans to get an idea of the total cost of each of those things I just mentioned, then decide which one's the most doable based on money, difficulty, and necessity, and then chop that big project into a whole bunch of smaller projects that I can dole out to myself over time. In between, I'll do some of those little things to give myself small victories. Here goes.