Day Two’s lesson seems to be that it’s hard to break old habits. Most of us eat dinner first and dessert last and that is what I did on Day Two. The morning started well enough. One of my morning routines is to write a list of at least five things for which I am grateful. I felt good and my list was easily flowing forth and becoming lengthy.
Ben showed up to begin reconstruction on the bathroom, but first he wanted to complete a walk-through of the entire project in order to make a list of the paint we’ll need to purchase. He arrived feeling annoyed with himself for his late start and he soon became annoyed with me. He expressed his annoyance by saying I think like a girl and was making the list like a girl and I needed to stop that and approach the list making like he would. I kept the mood light and we finished the list without further conflict. What I realize now is how much that accommodation depleted the positive energy bank I had built up while savoring my gratitudes.
Once we completed the task, I sat down to regroup. What I failed to do at that moment was grab dessert on the way to the couch. Rather than reminding myself of my intention to take the time to notice, choose, and each small positive thing, I walked right by a perfectly ripe banana that would have delighted my tastebuds and grabbed a cold hot dog as a snack. I didn’t even pop it in the microwave, put it on a plate, or top it with mustard. I gulped in while Ben complained about my chewing. This was no big deal on it’s own, but it was another small chink in my plan to choose things that feed my positive feelings or add a sense of sweetness to the necessary tasks of the day.
Soon afterward, I received a couple of texts and then a phone call from a friend who is job hunting. He is feeling so financially stressed that even a job offer cannot quell his mounting fear. The fear was bleeding out as anger toward everyone he was dealing with. The anger was so palpable and so overtly undeserved, I found myself saying, “I don’t think she can help it that her first language is not English.” His anger and frustration then turned toward me.
From this point forward, I remained off track. I was chewing on the meat of the workday with no thought of anything but systematic production. I didn’t even savor the anticipation of dinner and a movie with a friend. Ultimately, the gorgeous feeling of fall when we left the theatre was enough to briefly remind me that I may have to summon more resolve for Day Three.
Can I do it? As always, the question lingers until tomorrow…
