I have a little OCD problem. It's under control- I've gotten good at forcing myself to take steps onto non-matching cracks and different surfaces, and I rarely find myself tapping each finger the exact same number of times on the exact same spot on, say, a button. But my bedroom calendar is where my OCD completely takes off.
First of all, Facebook has nothing on me for birthdays. Everyone I love- their birthday is on that calendar. But don't go looking for yours toward the end of the year, because it will be gone, hidden underneath my constantly shifting scheme for marking off the days.
It started off simple enough. I drew a face that illustrated how I felt that day, so I could keep track of my (then fairly serious) depression. As the years went on, I began also keeping track of my sleeping and my menstrual cycle. From this I learned, amazingly enough, that my depression, insomnia, and period all coincided. The obsession became stronger.
This past year, I printed out about 380 tiny lists of my goal for the year. Each day, I check off what I accomplished, and glue it onto that calendar segment. This allows me to go back and actually quantify my success for the year. Well dear readers, here's how I did this year.
I wrote in my journal on 257 days. Not exactly close to my 365 goal, but not too shabby.
I read 21 books. Just three shy of my goal.
I cooked at least 239 meals for my friends and family. Again, this is significantly shy of my 365 goal, but I do feel pretty good about it.
I completed my homework on 246 days, including days that I didn't have any homework to complete, which meant that as far as I was concerned, it was done. Cheating? Me? Never.
I played with my children for two cumulative hours on 351 days. The days that I failed were mostly gearing up to finals, or during which I was ill. While it makes me sad to know that two whole weeks of my year passed without my actually engaging my children in a meaningful way, I will try to keep from feeling guilty about it for the rest of my life. I won't make any promises about that, I know myself too well. I'm going to feel guilty about this for years at the minimum.
I lit Sabbath candles ten times. That's less than a fifth of all the year's Sabbaths. I am determined to do better.
I "cleaned" my house 269 times. Or at least that's what it says. But I know better. I know that several of those "cleanings" are just laundry days, or just dishes. I'm really not certain that counts.
I left the house on 269 days. Again, a fair bit shy of 365. And I must admit, THAT is a depressing figure. Nearly a third of the year I didn't actually see the sun or sky a single time. What is wrong with me?
I made art 25 times, although most of them weren't actually paintings. This year, non-paintings absolutely count. Halloween costumes, for example, counted towards my "paintings" last year, this year the goal has been changed to simply, "Make Art." I feel pretty good about it.
This year's checklist, which M lovingly helped me cut out of 16 sheets of paper, is as follows:
those little pumpkin girls are such a treasure. you're awesome lea. that is all. also, call me tomorrow mmk?
ReplyDeleteWonderful calendar idea! I should start that.
ReplyDelete