Monday has rolled around again, and I am exhausted.  The weekend included some stressful, physically (and financially) tiring activities–computer-buying, and large-scale tree planting.  I am thrilled that we got so much accomplished, but my body does not feel ready to cope with a new week, and the relentless demands of my to-do list.

What I should be doing: I should be doing massive, full-scale house-cleaning today.  I should change the sheets, and clean out the fridge and really get organized for the week.  I should go into town and get a few groceries.  I should put in some time on a special project for work, and if it weren’t for the month’s worth of exercise I got from planting trees,  I would say I should exercise.

What I will be doing: There are two things that really need to be done today or as soon as possible, and that is where I will focus–I will get a few groceries, because no matter how messy the house is, or whatever else goes undone, we still need to eat.  I also plan to try out a recipe this afternoon purely because I bought buttermilk for the recipe, and intended to make the recipe once before, but the buttermilk went bad first.  I will not have another incident with the buttermilk!

From there, I don’t know how productive I will be, but I will be satisfied to get those two things accomplished.  Today, I am sure I will make use of my handy-dandy kitchen timer, a device that has helped me through days cram-packed with activity, as well as days in which I just suffer from lagging motivation.  I set the timer for fifteen minutes and get to work on whatever task I am putting off or simply having trouble focusing on.  That’s my fifteen minutes to clean the bathroom, grade papers, write, pray, exercise, or even take a break.  The break may be the opposite of how the timer is used by most folks, but sometimes, if I am having trouble settling into a task, I give myself fifteen minutes to goof off, and then when the buzzer sounds, it is time to get down to work.

In case you are interested, the recipe requiring buttermilk is from the Kate Jacobs’ book Comfort Food. See www.comfortfoodnovel.com