Two days: A matter of perspective

Day 1: The baby woke up at 5am, instead of her usual 7. Then she “dirtied” all over her pajamas, but I didn’t notice it until I’d carried her around for a while, so I had “dirty” all over my shirt, too. That morning, the dog was overly anxious, and in addition to asking to go out no come in no go out but I want to come back in! for several straight hours, she twice ran right underneath my feet, almost causing me to trip. One of those times I was holding the baby, almost fell, and scared the crap out of myself.

My cell phone rang twice with wrong numbers, our home phone rang eight – eight – times with sales calls. The dog went out in the afternoon and rolled in something dead, twice, so I had to stop what I was doing and wipe her down, twice.

At 2pm I realized I had no groceries in the house, and therefore no options for dinner.

I didn’t hear back all day from four people I had contacted over the weekend about Vemma.

An article I submitted for publication was published, but was highly edited. I couldn’t find the version of the copy I sent in, so I didn’t have any option to learn from my mistakes. I sulked for a while, feeling frustrated that, ugh, I’m just not getting this journalistic writing thing.

My inbox was inundated all day, I wasn’t able to keep up, and by the end of the day my unreads were over 100.

After dinner there was an enormous stack of dirty dishes to do.

The baby was having a rough evening. I missed a leadership call at 7pm I had hoped to call into.

I fell into bed at 10pm without writing the blog post I had planned in my head all day, without finishing tidying up the living room, without having written a single word in my journal, without having completed my Vemma goals for the day, without having sent those papers to my CPA, without having filled my car tires with air (that they desperately need), and without making any progress on my currently assigned SPN article, Vemma follow up list, or basement organization project.

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Day 2: I woke up early, felt rested, so I decided to stay up. I spent the early morning responding to several text messages, cruising Facebook and Twitter, and making myself cinnamon toast. I love cinnamon toast.

I took a walk with the baby mid-morning, had a lovely conversation with my mom, sent a few photos via text to other family members, and enjoyed the beautiful fall day.

I watered the plants, planned two new recipes to try for the week, and thought about the fun weekend we just had. I spent a few minutes catching up with two old friends and connected again with a new friend, a soul sister in books and real estate and defining your own life that I had recently gotten to know.

I talked with Hubz mid-day, just to say hi. I went to the grocery store and Punkin racked up several more amazing hair/gorgeous eyes/she seems happy/perfectofcourseduh compliments.

The baby had a great first half of the day, and during the second half we finally tried out the Baby Bjorn. She smiled and giggled for 45 minutes as I ran around the house with her getting things done. I snapped a photo and a short video and sent them to Hubz and my Mom. They both responded quickly with funny comments that made me smile.

I received a flattering compliment on my businesses from an old high school friend and a kind email from a blog subscriber about my writing.

Hubz loved the dinner I made, we cleaned up and laughed as he also tried on the Bjorn and made the baby giggle again. We all snuggled into the couch as Monday night football was on in the background and the dog bounced around the living room with her tennis ball. We talked about work and this coming weekend and family and a few financial goals.

I made a note in my phone about a couple small projects I would like to tackle this week, began planning one in my head, came up with good ideas, and recorded them. I cleaned out a plastic bin of storage from underneath the guest room bed and did a load of laundry.

I picked out a new book to read and got through the introduction.

I talked to a friend in the evening who got her Vemma order going again, and gave me a fabulous update on her recent trip to Napa Valley. I closed out the night communicating with three Vemma brand partners, sending encouragement and recognition to two others, and thinking about a couple ways to take better advantage of my real estate license. I rocked the baby to sleep while enjoying the wafts of crisp fall air flowing in through her open window, and got to bed at a decent hour.

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Two days. One good. One not so good.

Two days. But they weren’t two different days, of course, they were the same day.

They were yesterday.

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Perspective. It makes all the difference in the world.

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Focusing on the golden stuff,
AS

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