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Sympathy For The Devil

I may not KNOW a lot of things but one thing I do believe for sure is that BOB (Esai Morales) from La Bamba is one BADASS mother fucker. He has to be THEE coolest and most captivating actor on the planet.

He should have won an OSCAR for best supporting actor for his performance; (Esai Morales) truly MADE the movie.

He literally SEDUCES the audience.

That being said, what I find most ironic is that no matter what he did or said, I still liked his character. I thought he was hilarious, I still do. What is even more puzzling, is that he is a complete dick.

(Side note: Esai also appeared on Ozark for a season or two- I was immediately entranced. )

As a woman, I completely identify with Rosie. As a mother and wife, I empathize with how she feels; I hate how she is treated by Bob. What was also puzzling is that she ANNOYED me. 🙈

I can actually feel her pain, grief, & confusion. You can see it written on her face. The “wait…wtf-just-happened?” face. The “how-in-the-hell-did-I-end-up-here” face. She displays this facial expression the majority of the movie. We all know that face.

This puzzled face☝🏻The “Rosie” face.

We all know that feeling: When you realize you’ve been had. You got screwed over. The worst part about it, the majority of it was your own doing. You assumed. ASS-U-ME.

I get how she assumed as well. Any woman in a could easily fall into Bob’s trap; especially the married ones. Bob’s seductive allure could have wise woman entranced in his spell: After Bob flirts with you: Huh? What kids? What husband? You don’t have a job you say? Ballsy. Hot…You drink every day? Wild & crazy. You live in your mom’s trailer? Sounds cozy. Humina Humina 😍🥰😛

I am embarrassed to admit this, but I remember thinking: Awwww just leave him alone Rosie.. it’s your own fault you got yo self knocked up

☝🏻This is the work of the devil.👆🏻

I STILL liked him after that horrible, disrespectful and honest statement by Bob. Like “Dayyyuuumm.” Why?

Currently, I am an adult and an educated & wise woman, yet I still like Bob. Wtf!? How come? 1. Clearly excellent acting by Esai Morales 2. Amazing directing

However, I am not satisfied with this. Inquiring minds want to know!!!

I was concerned with my reaction when I watching this movie recently. When the mother, Connie Valenzuela, minimized Bob’s cartoonist abilities and reminded him that he is about to become a father, I thought: Jeez Connie, buzzkill, what did you have to go and do that for!? Why don’t you get out of Richie’s ass and pay attention to poor Bob. He is trying. POOR BOB

Poor Bob: your womanizing, chauvinistic, selfish, entitled, immature, unemployed, alcoholic, manipulative, man-baby-son who just was released from prison.🤔 (Bob sounds like a real catch on paper doesn’t he?🤥😂)

Idle hands are the devil’s workshop; idle lips are his mouthpiece.Proverbs 16

From a biological & genetic standpoint, Bob does what Bob does best. Bob is a an alpha male who is genetically predisposed to flock his sexy shit to attract females. Bob does whatever possible to get laid; ultimately procreating more human beings to populate the earth. (Biology 101: It is vital for males to compete for reproduction and for females to choose between those competing males.

If a member of the opposite sex finds your tail, your song, or your dance moves sexy, you will have a chance to fulfill your primary biological role as a member of your species: to reproduce.

https://biogeoplanet.com/how-do-animals-find-mates-sex-and-sexual-selection/

This is “Bob’s” “primary biological role” aka his job and he rocks it. He got Rosie pregnant so now he needs to “move on” and to do this again.

It’s not his fault…yet. (Please don’t get angry, hear me out;)

From a biological/genetic standpoint, Bob is doing his job. He behaves how all male animals act. Bob is genetically predisposed to be what humans would consider “an asshole”.

The problem is, he also doesn’t know any better. No one has taught him otherwise. No one has had the chance to teach Bob to step above his biological urges.

Please don’t cause him to feel inadequate by making him have to THINK.

Don’t make him feel like a failure by asking him to have COMPASSION or EMPATHY? That is NO FUN.

What a DRAG it is getting old.

What would cause a human being to behave this way? Or to treat women this way?

Bob’s True Story & my psychological interpretation😜:

Just like Rosie, Connie also hooked up with a bad boy at a young age and got herself impregnated (with Bob.) The hot, sexy biological father took off.

I know you “love him” Rosie, but unless you want to cook dinner on his motorcycle…

Connie then met someone else (Steve) and Connor married Steve when Bob was two years old. Steve loved Bob and treated him as his own. Steve and Connie then had a child, Ritchie. Ritchie was a reflection to Connie what she did right=Ritchie=golden boy. However, Bob was a reminder of her bad decisions.

Connie, Steve, Bob & Ritchie were doing well together for a while. Bob assumed Steve was his biological father and Bob loved him.

In an interview, the real Bob Morales states his life took a bad turn when he was 14 and his parents (Connie & Steve) separated.

“I moved in with my mom while Ritchie went with my dad. One day I told my mom that I wanted to live with my dad and and that’s when my aunt told me ‘Why do you want to go with him if he’s not even your real father.’Bob Morales 

Despite Steve conveying to Bob that he loved him as his own son, the shock devastated Bob. Also, it was horrible timing for Bob to find this out because soon after this discovery, Bob began high school.

Bob was getting into fights frequently so he stopped attending. Instead he gave money to the homeless nearby who would buy him alcohol.

While his now single-mom was working two jobs, Bob was not going to school and had no structure all day, no guidance, no direction=idle time which is the DEVIL’s playground.

Therefore, Bob ended up going to a detention center from age 12-17! Connie, his mother, signed him over as a ward of the state. He did not see his family that entire time he was locked up.

👆🏻AKA Go Fuck yourself Connie. I will never let a woman hurt me again.

The first time Bob saw his mother or Ritchie in years; was the day of Steve’s funeral. Which also means he didn’t get to say goodbye to Steve or to grieve properly.

Bob learned to adapt to his lonely life by becoming the life of the party. He learned how to get what he needed by finding comfort in women and selfishly move on. This probably soothed his resentment toward his mother for while, but then he felt guilty; so he drank the pain away.

Of course he was jealous of Ritchie. Ritchie got his Dad and his Mom. He got nobody.

The point is that all of US are capable of evil depending on what we are exposed to.

I thought of this blog when I was about to bitch at my son for not cleaning up the mess he made after making quesadillas. I realized that I can’t assume he knows how. Instead, I showed him how clean it up. I told him that this is what I expect. I didn’t talk to him like he was stupid. I thanked him for making his own food. I didn’t clean it up for him. This is the only way they learn.

Mothers: We cannot assume that our sons are just going to know how to treat women when they’re older. We cannot assume that their Dad’s are going to teach them either. Most Dads are working their ass off and are never home. (Probably chasing tail 😂 not knowing why. Kidding!🤪)

We have to teach OUR SONS what WE want from them so they can learn how to GIVE this to their future partners. We need to teach them about affection, connection, friendship, compatibility, respect, and the long term.

We have to teach them that this may be a biological urge to continue to chase women and populate the world, HOWEVER, we are not animals.

It costs a lot of time, money, energy to raise a human child properly into a respectable adult.

We need to teach them that human females can be hot and smart. Women can be attractive, fun, brilliant, and confident. We have to teach them, not ASSUME, that a Human FEMALE’S purpose is not to populate the world.

It’s Biology Rosie- kidding! You can have both!

We also have to teach our daughters: What they tolerate will become their future. Being a victim will not get you anywhere.

It’s OUR job to ALSO teach the FUTURE MEN of this world these skills. We need to teach them how to love unconditionally. Parents need to be a TEAM.

There is a chapter in this book on how we “go easy” on our sons because we don’t think they can manage it all and are tougher on our daughters 🙈

https://markmanson.net/love

https://markmanson.net/compatibility-and-chemistry

#markmanson

#ericthomas

#glennondoyle

#Beyourself, #freedom, #landmarkforum, #opportunity, #rodanandfields, #sidehustle, Uncategorized, vulnerability, Women's Fight

Saying YES

Remember that story about the guy trapped in a flood on his rooftop and he begs God to save him?  First a man in a rowboat shows up and shouts “Jump in, I can save you!” The says “No, its okay, I am waiting for God to save me.”

Then a guy in a motorboat (that motorboatin sonofabitch)  shows up and says “Jump in, I can save you…”

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The guy declines again and says “NO, its okay, I am waiting for God to save me.”

Lastly, a guy in a helicopter shows up. The guy on the rooftop remained stuck in his faith, beliefs and expectations; gracefully refuses. He answers “I am waiting for God to save me”.

Alas, the guy drowns. When he arrives in heaven, he angrily exclaims to God, “I had faith in you but you didn’t save me, YOU let me drown! I don’t understand WHY!

God replied. “I sent you a rowboat, a motorboat (built for speed and comfort), and a helicopter. What more did you expect? God shakes his head and walks away whispering “dumbass” under his breath…

What did the guy expect? God himself to show up? He’s a busy guy. He sent his peeps to do his work. This guy clung on to his EXPECTATIONS instead of saying YES to opportunity.

Once you begin to look at everything as an opportunity, things in your life can begin to change; if you are smart enough to say yes. An opportunity could be a friend inviting you to lunch or to go out, an acquaintance asking you to come to a conference, a free seminar, or an exercise class. What happens is we hesitate; we start thinking. (#melrobbins) We start finding reasons why we shouldn’t or finding excuses to stay stuck. To stay SAFE.

Our brains are designed to keep us safe so if there is any kind of perceived risk, our brains respond to it. Our brains cannot decipher the risk, it can only respond to how we react. Our brains functioned exceptionally when we were non-verbal Neanderthal’s whose only existence was to procreate, hunt, gather and survive. The human brain’s “safe mode” allowed people to survive epidemics, wars, the holocaust, and countless other tragedies.

If you are fortunate to have your basic needs met (oxygen, water, food, shelter, adequate clothing, electricity, heat, running water, WIFI, a smart phone etc.) and you are physically safe; the brain prefers you stay that way.  When you step out of your “comfort zone”, the brain reacts to protect you; this is what causes you to hesitate.

“Hoping a situation will get better is not a strategy.” John Maxwell

Stepping out of your comfort zone could mean waking up a half hour earlier to jump start your day, not hitting the snooze button, doing an exercise you have never done, eating foods you have never tried, being real, being honest, not pretending, not reacting to the guilt trip your kids are trying to manipulate you with, speaking up in a meeting, standing up for someone, taking action in a situation that feels wrong, helping someone, putting yourself out there, doing something you have never done, physically taking action on something you want to change.

In reference to Theodore Roosevelt’s speech, The Man in the Arena…All of the above are examples “BEING in the arena.” (Debating with someone on social media about politics does not count-having social media balls is called sitting in the stands of the arena.:)

When you want something, you think about it, you speak about it, the universe responds. The universe has your back. It starts to work to bring you what you want. Unfortunately, many of us believe it should be “exactly” how we imagined or expected. However, we may not be ready for what we want and the next step in the journey shows up. Ever hear TRUST THE PROCESS?

If you keep talking about why you keep dating losers, how shitty your job is, how useless your significant other is or how broke you are; the universe will keep bringing you that as well.

An example could be when you are stuck in a rut, you believe your life is a mess, you have mountains of laundry, you look awful blah blah blah and a friend texts you to go to free class or meet for coffee or a drink. This is where you SAY YES.

When you want financial freedom, you may hope or expect to receive an inheritance, settlement or win the lottery; yet stay at a job you are miserable at. This expectation may enable you to not look for other options, ignore an idea you have, get a side hustle or even turn down a different job offer. It could even be a friend inviting you to a presentation or conference that could inspire or empower you. Instead you SAY YES to what has presented itself to you.

When you want to lose weight, have more energy or feel better, you may expect some kind of quick fix, magic pill or a surgery to do the work for you. Instead the universe may send you a friend inviting you to go a free exercise class, a stranger asking you to join an fitness/accountability group or you ignore the inner voice telling you to make that doctor appointment. You may do what you have always done and say no because you “don’t have the money, don’t have the time.” SAY YES.

You may long to be in a loving, fun and fulfilling relationship and you have expectations, opinions and false premises of what you think this is “supposed to feel like” and what this person is “supposed” to look like. The scenarios are endless with this one. The universe knows where you are at and is sending you individuals or situations to prepare you for what you do want. SAY YES.

Take Risks. Let go of Expectations. Don’t be a dumb ass. If you are, learn from it. Find the message in the mess.

No one is coming to save you!

God helps those who helps themselves.

#rodanandfields

Pizza Face & Crummy Commericals

The summer I turned sixteen, I worked at a hot dog joint called “Willy’s Wayside Wagon”. It was a little trailer conveniently located next to a tavern. The steamed tamales, buns and dogs, with other side options like deep fried pizza puffs french fries with optional cheese sauce was a neighborhood favorite; especially the drunk guys from the bar next door. The steam would open my pores and I would receive a greasy facial every time I worked. Accompanied by the syrupy, fountain drinks available to me anytime I wanted had me strung out and dehydrated.  Of course in combination with my raging hormones and my consuming this stuff every time I worked wreaked havoc on my skin.

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1973 Noxema Ad that my mom probably saw and passed on this “knowledge” to me. 

My mom told me to use Noxema, so I listened. I would splash the water on my face like they did in the commercial but only difference is my skin looked like shit and there was water everywhere. (I know now that my Mom was lucky and has good genes; she has never had a break out in her entire life. The Noxema had nothing to do with it. My Dad was a genetically pre-disposed pizza face as was my grandfather:)

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This is the story of my becoming a “product whore”. There was no internet or googling back in the early 90’s. All I had was my parents, my friends, Seventeen magazine and commericals to find the answers.  Clearasil, Oxy pads, Stridex and the Buff Puff were the products I started with. I would wash my face in the morning and at night.  My face exploded even more so I bought products to now cover up my face (Clearasil -the tan colored ointment and cover girl by Noxzema of course). Most of the time I had that slightly orange oompa loompa look from wearing clearisil as my make up regimen.

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I became depressed, insecure and pre-occupied with my skin. I purchased more products. Then I continued my career in the fast food industry working at Pop’s beef.  I was free of the steamed-in-trailer however now I was doing dishes and exposed to delicious dairy shakes, gravy sandwiches with melted mozzarella cheese and all the pop I could drink which had me gaining weight like a champ. That is when the painful underground bumps, cystic acne on my face began. (Side note: This cystic acne continued due to my guzzling gallons of beer/liquid gluten in college and did not stop until I went gluten free in 2005. Another Saga: Good times)

 

One day I was walking down the hall in high school and one my friend’s mouth dropped open in horror and I knew what she saw. It confirmed what I already knew; I was a complete pizza face. After school I did something I never did; I came home and cried to my mom. I told her I needed to do something. I was a strung out product whore who wanted to bury her head in the sand and not go to the prom; or leave the house again. My mom did something she never did, she got on the phone immediately and called a skin doctor and made an appointment for me.

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I walked to the doctor by myself and apparently this was acceptable with parents verbal consent and I was 16. This lanky, older, bony Lemony Snicket-look-alike doctor walked in wearing a coal mine headlight and magnifying glass and examined my skin with a look of disgust. He gave some harsh but sound advice.

“You are washing your face too much.”

Um what? “I thought I am supposed to wash my face?”

He sighed. “The more you wash your face, the more oil you are producing. Just wash it at night and that is it.” I was so confused and my mind racing with all the commercials I saw that could prove his outlandish claim otherwise.

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Lemony Snicket’s

“You are also touching your face too much. Keep your hands off your face.” Now, I was feeling blamed for my skin’s demise, I inquired further. He was visibly irritated now, writing me out prescriptions. “The more you touch your face, the dirt and bacteria gets on your skin and you spread the disease all over your face.” DISEASE? What the hell?

“Take these pills as ordered and do what I said and your skin will be better in three months. Come back to see me in a month and KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF!”

I began taking the pills, Erythromycin and Tetracycline twice a day. I kept my hands off my face, avoided the mirror and washed my face only at night. I went back to see the doctor as ordered after a month and he said “I see you listened. It is working.” I left the office beaming feeling like I had control over my life again…Until I began to grow a mustache and beard.

Apparently the tetracycline stimulates facial hair growth, testosterone and also wears down the enamel on your teeth. I was too terrified to stop using the pills so of course, so I settled on a new product; mustache bleach. I continued the pills and bleaching my mustache and beard until I was 19. Until one day I was walking down the street with two of my guy friends in the snow;  who pointed out that the new-fallen flurries were sticking to my mustache. I laughed it off yet was secretly horrified. I purchased some waxing strips the next day.

Eventually my crotchety dermatologist retired and I had to see someone else. My new kinder, younger and less crotchety dermatologist told me new information that would’ve been useful 14 years ago. “Use cleansers, lotion and make up that specifically says non-comedogenic, if it doesn’t say that on the label, do not use it. Non-comedogenic means it does not clog pores.”

He told me to stop the antibiotics and put me on a topical treatment; Retin-A. My skin stopped breaking out but now I had peeling skin all over my face. Make-up exacerbated the peeling this and I did not want to leave the house. The doctor swtiched my ointment to Differin which finally worked and it even helped the past breakout blemishes. Only problem, the co-pay it was expensive as hell. It was like $75 after insurance!

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LIARS! 🙂

I then discovered another epiphany, Noxema and Cover-Girl products did not say “Non-comedogenic”. I was betrayed by all those bullshit commercials I had been believing wholeheartedly for the answers I was searching for. It was my first realization I was a sucker and I fell into the advertising trap. I felt like Ralphie when he realizes that he drank gallons of Ovaltine for a secret decoder pin that reminds him to drink more ovaltine “a crummy commercial.” I’d Been HAD!

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“Maybe she’s born with it, Maybe it’s Maybelline.” Low and behold, I discover Maybelline says “Non-comedogenic” right on the back of the package. I also found out the dollar tub of Vaseline is non-comedogenic; I was now so confused. After using Maybelline, Differin and non-comedogenic cleansers and lotions; my skin FINALLY improved. However, the scars were still there, emotionally and on my face.

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Late twenties,  I switched to Clinique make up and there 3-step skin regimen. This worked for awhile, but I still had break outs so eventually I tried Pro-Activ around age 32. Pro-Activ worked for me pretty well for years and becoming gluten free in 2005 and dairy free in 2007 as helped my skin immensely. Once I cleaned up my diet further with 21 day fix portion control containers and Shakeology everyday; pro-activ seemed to be too strong for my skin.

In 2015, a coworker told me about Rodan and Fields “Unblemish” regimen that I could try for 60 days and ship back for my money back if I did not like it. It was a bit more expensive than Pro-Activ so I was hesitant; but I took a chance. My skin has never been better, I barely break out at all now except from hormones or if I accidentally eat gluten.

I was amazed that I could alternate with some of Rodan and Fields regimens for anti-aging with exfoliating cleanser, vitamin C and retinol (Reverse Brightening) without breaking out. I have now tried ALL of their products and I am mind-blown.  I believe I AM extremely qualified to become a Rodan and Fields consultant considering MY 25+ year SKIN BATTLE! WTF. Seriously. This knowledge took me 28 years to experience and acquire and I would like to save others from a 20+ year battle! It is like my ZIT Resume so please take this seriously.

I am compelled to tell others, especially my friends who have kids and TEENAGERS!

  1. Educate them about facial skin care as early as age 7 (with hormones in our food and puberty starting so young now, the earlier you teach them the better)
  2. Tell them to keep their hands/fingers/phones off their face
  3. Norwex sells a facial baby washcloth that they can use only water and the cloth to wipe their face and along hair line (sweat). This cloth  self cleans when hung up to dry and has a handy little hang up tag sewn into the cloth. (This is excellent for teens and even adults.
  4. Have them wear non-comedogenic lotion, sunscreen and make up
  5. Have them cool face down with ice, water or cool washcloth when overheated, red faced and sweaty. (Heat causes inflammation, leads to break outs)
  6. When they have a pimple, wrap an ice cube in a washcloth or paper towel and apply the ice to the pimple on and off throughout the day (this will lower inflammation and the puss (infection). The pimple may break naturally or go down. Popping pimples equals scars, skin damage and re appearance.
  7. CONTACT ME FOR information on the NEW #SPOTLESS regimen designed only for kids and teens!!! For young and older adults – UNBLEMISH regimen has just been revised to have anti-aging components!!! For eczema, psoriasis, rosacea -try the SOOTHE regimen. When used correctly, these regimen can last 3-4 months. R&F also sells gauze sqaures to use for toner instead of cotton balls-use WAY less product!
  8. If you are an adult or parent (male and female) and you do NOT have a daily skin regimen, a skin regimen that is working, you do NOT wash your face before you go to bed, you have Rosecea and/or you do not wear sunscreen daily….Please contact me…PLEASE 🙂 708-945-9130 text, call or email quillankellydunn@gmail.com. If you trust me, do not want educaton and don’t want to talk about it and just order-my Rodan and Field Consult I.D. is 101793654. Kelly Knapczyk

FOR NORWEX: Text Allison Knight 773-818-7383

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#brenebrown, #greatpretender, #homeschoolingrealshit, #opportunity, #sidehustle, Find A Way, parenting struggles, Uncategorized, Women's Fight, Yoga Pants

My Brain Is Oatmeal

I was home (in between jobs 😜)from January 12th-March 6th. Sounds awesome right? However about after a month and not having money (because not working kinda limits all the “fun things” and “projects” you want to do while off.)

I have found it doesn’t take much to throw off your momentum and routine. I believe sick kids is literally the #1 routine- sabotager for moms. Somehow shit is everywhere, you are trapped at home and eventually you have to give in at some point.

Just throw in the towel and watch movies with your sick child who requires hourly snacks and drinks. (Ironically they never eat this much when they are well.) Then of course, mom succumbs to the illness, further jacking up the routine for another week or two.

Then the “getting back on track” phase begins, where you want to jump back into action, however you have mountains of crap to catch up on and clean because the sick child’s stuff is all over. Finally after about three days, you are ready to get back to your “routine”.

My “routine”…After I get the kids to school and calm down from the morning rage of screaming at each other to get going; I do the morning dishes. I wipe the counter and table, which leads to scrubbing the stove, and then washing floor in the kitchen. Let’s be real, cooking real dinners are messy AF and since I was “off”, making real dinners, not chicken nuggets or pizza, was expected. Reasoning: I am off work, I should be able to start dinner. Hence, “Should.”

I am an unintentional slob while cooking. I leave cabinets open, I always over boil pasta and get the filmy stain on the stove. Most of the stuff I chop ends up on the floor, and I have like 15 different seasonings and ingredients on the counter. I’m like an OCD person’s worst nightmare.

I move on to the laundry and find myself frustrated about the baskets of unmatching socks mixed with items the kids barely wore and putting it in the wash. I sit on the floor attempting to match my daughters 17 pairs of socks in various colors, that are “almost the same” color but not quite. I cuss and then realize I also have many different colored socks that require matching and curse myself for being me. When I start becoming euphoric when I find a sock match, I know it’s time for me to get a life and do something else. I stand up feeling old AF because my hips and knees ache from siting like that so long.

I decide to take a break from the maddening sock-matching battle, get out of the house and take an exercise class. When I arrive home, I’m starving and thirsty so then I ponder about what to make that is the least messy to clean up. While I’m thinking, I mindlessly eat some donkey chips or nuts. Once I make something, I clean up again, try to figure out what to make for dinner and I’m now exhausted.

I aim to take a “meditation nap” while listening to headphones by 1pm before I shower and pick the kids up. I wake up to my alarm at 2:00pm and check my texts, somehow I’m on some article on Social media and 30 minutes goes by. Son of a… so no shower…again.

I’m getting headaches frequently, probably from dehydration because I keep forgetting to drink water. None of my clothes fit except yoga pants. I have no energy to walk in addition to my workouts. I am barely hitting 5000 steps on my Fitbit. I have forgotten two appointments and like 6 of my kids practices already because I didn’t put it in my calendar. My house is being consumed by clutter and randomness, and the sad thing is, I don’t even care. However, I do begin caring about dumb shit and worrying like “my friend didn’t text me back, is she mad at me?”

I noticed the universal intervention while I kept procrastinating about cleaning my bathroom. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” Until one fateful day, in the middle of washing my face and my daughter asked me something. I dried my face , went to help her and brought kids to school. When I arrive home, I discover the back room floor wet. “Damn kids, what the hell?” I think. Until I go upstairs and realize I left the sink running the entire time. Now I really have to clean my bathroom. Declutter and throw away tons of crap that should’ve been gone years ago.

Fast Forward: Start job March 6th.

•Have to wake up at 4:20am in order to get everything done and leave a time-window open for my scatterbrain-ness•

Below is all that I accomplished:

  • •Exercise•Shower•Get dressed•Wake kids•Make them breakfast•Ensure they are ready and brush their teeth to eliminate dragon breath before I leave•(why don’t kids care these days about not being the smelly kid).
  • The Night before all this is ready: Kids lunches/snacks/water•Meal prep my lunch/snacks•Run dishwasher•Laundry•kids uniforms/shoes/socks all ready•(the cursed sock and shoe search is the biggest daily time sucker).•Lay out my workout clothes (with socks and shoes)•Pick out work clothes including underwear, bra, socks and shoes (I am just as bad as my kids, who am I kidding?)•
  • Leave for train at 6:35am.
  • Hall ass 25 minutes in the cold to my building
  • I eat the food I brought with me.
  • I drink tons of water, probably 20 ounces an hour without thinking about it.
  • I get 10,000+ steps in by halling ass back to the train station.
  • No naps,
  • Home by 5:30

It continues…

•Make dinner•Clock in as an unpaid Uber driver and cart kids from school extended day, games and practices•No missed practices because I put everything my calendar immediately upon receiving the coach’s email•I keep on the kids about putting their crap away•I hold kids accountable to get their shit ready for the morning•No guilt•

Repeat.

Notice the difference? Now it is clear and concise like a fucking resume. Lots of Action Words.

No bullshit.

It’s all done. No elaboration, no details.

It’s completed because it has to be.

I don’t have a choice.

There’s no time to think.

No time to procrastinate.

I have to just do it.

The less time you have, the less time you waste.