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Entries in procrastination (1)

Saturday
Sep042010

My Frog

Mark Twain said, "If you eat a frog first thing in the morning, the rest of your day will be wonderful."

I've listened to Brian Tracy's "Eat That Frog" over a dozen times. It's a great book about not procrastinating, encouraging us to eat our frogs, the things we hate to do, eating the biggest and ugliest frog first thing in the morning.

Every morning, I look at my desk and think, "Walk over there. Work on charts. Make charts. Put the labs that came in email into the charts." Charts are my frog.

I'm most functional in the morning. In fact, I've set the alarm to get up at 5am for awhile now. I love working in the (now) dark quiet while everyone, even the dogs, are sleeping. I don't have the phone ringing, don't hear Sarah downstairs working and talking loudly on her phone. I can just be with me. (Wouldn't that be a great time to write a blog post? haha!)

My frogs haunt me in the morning.

But, Sarah's sleeping. I can't print and scan while she's sleeping. Okay, I'll Facebook for awhile. Just awhile. (If charts are my frog, Facebooking is my hot fudge sundae.)

I write a few comments, witty comebacks, thoughtful intros to links I've posted and before you know it, it's Sarah's alarm going off. Her alarm ringer is the most obnoxious cock-a-doodle-doo on the planet. She thinks it's hysterical, so lets it run through it's square dance blasting twice before turning it off. I grit my teeth. Some days she doesn't even get up with that rooster, so I have to listen to it in vain. But when she does, I get the coffee while she makes the bed, I feed the dogs and then we sit talking for awhile. When I can, I sneak the computer on my lap, answering emails and more comments. Sometimes she snaps and I have to take my hands off the keyboard. Until she picks up her own computer; that's the signal our discussion time has passed.

I make breakfast, we eat. She goes downstairs and begins her loud phone talking work and my frog still sits immobile on the desk. Croaking loudly. But, my morning has passed... and I'm no longer in my prime working time. I sigh and tune out the frog for another day.

Talking to my baby Aimee last night about my frog, she said she has to say to herself, "I'll do it now. If I don't do it now, I won't do it at all." Squinting, I think, "That's a clever idea. I wonder if I can work that into my inner dialogue."

I got up this morning. The frogs are croaking loudly because I have clients to see today. I need to prime their charts... writing the date, their weeks pregnant, notes about what we'll discuss, review their previous records again and re-read what I've written before.

Sarah's watching "Motherhood", so I'm half-listening as I write this and the frogs are getting louder and louder as time passes. So, I'm going to finish this and hit publish. I'm heading over to my desk, sprinkling salt over the whole shebang and am going to dig in with both hands.

Wish me luck.