Day Seven Check-in
Damn. Okay, turn back around to the list of names. Focus. B. Be here. Be aware.
Pop! Facebook is open and the laptop sound is on; someone wants to chat. “Have you seen the latest YouTube video of Bristol Palin and Jimmy Johnson on Dancing With the Stars?” OMG!!
I watch the video and double-OMG! My media player sputters in the middle of the video, so while I wait for it to track again, I grab my cell phone to start a game of Jewels. I’m in Level One when the phone dings with an incoming text. Switch over–do I want chicken for dinner and could I get it out of the freezer, please?
I head into the kitchen and the muted television catches my eye. I’m a sucker for coverage of animals and storms. Grab the remote–it’s a piece on rescuing animals left behind from a hurricane evacuation.
The next thing I know, I am mentally figuring the time it would take to drive to the coastal region or the Outer Banks–I’m not sure where the reporter is, but wherever he is, I’m considering going there.
Sanity quickly returns and I simply say a prayer for the animals. I can’t go anywhere . . . I have this list of names I’m working on.
Now I’m exhausted. And somewhat weirded out. Am I really like this? Do I function this way? I must, because I receive a regular paycheck, but what am I really doing?
I’m a juggler, a flitterer, a person compelled to efficiently plug each tiny gap of free time with layers of activity.
What would change about me if I played one or two games of Jewels? If I sat down to watch the Bristol and Jimmy story? Really watched it? When the segment ended, could I turn off the TV and consciously think about my next step?
Would I change? That’s what we’ll find out in 21 days.