I Finally Got My Life Together… It Lasted 75 Minutes

At 7:03 on Monday morning, I made a terrible decision.

I decided to get my life together.

I’d seen one of those inspirational posts the night before. You know the ones. Some suspiciously cheerful woman was sitting cross-legged on a perfectly white bed holding a cup of tea while sunlight gently streamed through the window.

The caption said: “Your morning determines your day.”

Well, that explained a lot.

Normally, my morning consisted of hitting snooze four times, negotiating with my bladder for another ten minutes, and eventually stumbling toward the coffee maker looking like something archaeologists had recently unearthed.

But not today.

Today, I was going to become one of those people.

I set my alarm for 6:00am.

At 6:00am, the alarm went off.

At 6:00am, I discovered that the woman on Instagram was a liar. Nevertheless, I dragged myself out of bed. Step one was meditation. I sat cross-legged on the floor, closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind.

“Breathe in peace,” I whispered.

My brain immediately responded: Did you pay the hydro bill?

I ignored it.

“Breathe out negativity.”

You forgot to reply to that email from Thursday.

“Quiet.”

Also, remember that embarrassing thing you said in 2009?

I opened my eyes.

Meditation was cancelled.

Next came yoga.

Apparently, yoga is supposed to make you feel connected to your body.

It worked.

Within approximately forty seconds, I was deeply connected to several muscles I had previously been unaware existed.

I attempted something called Downward Dog.

My actual dog wandered over, stared at me for several seconds and then backed slowly out of the room.

Even he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

Fine.

Healthy breakfast.

The inspirational woman had recommended avocado toast, fresh berries and lemon water.

I had bread.

This seemed promising.

Unfortunately, the avocado had reached that magical stage where it went from “not quite ripe” to “prehistoric swamp creature” sometime during the night.

So I had toast.

While waiting for it, I decided to unload the dishwasher.

This is where the morning began actively fighting back.

I opened the cupboard.

A plastic container fell out.

I caught it.

Its lid fell out.

I bent down to pick up the lid.

Another container fell on my head.

Apparently, the Tupperware cupboard had been waiting months for its opportunity.

I closed the door.

We agreed never to speak of it again.

Then the smoke alarm went off.

My toast.

I ran to the toaster and discovered two charcoal rectangles capable of surviving atmospheric re-entry.

The dog returned.

He looked at the toast.

Then at me.

Then back at the toast.

I could practically hear him thinking:

And they put YOU in charge of me?

It was now 6:47.

I had meditated badly, injured myself doing yoga, been assaulted by food-storage containers and cremated breakfast.

But I refused to quit.

Successful people make lists.

So I grabbed a notebook and wrote:

TODAY’S GOALS

1. Be productive.
2. Drink more water.
3. Stay positive.
4. Get organized.
5. Do not lose my mind.

Beautiful.

I took a photograph of the list because apparently documenting productivity counts as productivity.

Then I couldn’t find my phone.

I searched the kitchen.

The bedroom.

The bathroom.

My purse.

The couch cushions.

I even checked the refrigerator because, frankly, nothing was impossible anymore.

After ten minutes, I decided to call it.

That was when my pants started ringing.

The phone was in my pocket.

I stood completely still for a moment.

The dog was watching me again.

“Not one word.”

At 7:15, I abandoned the entire self-improvement project and made coffee.

Real coffee.

Not herbal tea.

Not lemon water.

Coffee strong enough to make me briefly understand algebra.

I sat on the couch.

The dog climbed beside me.

I looked around at the yoga mat, the burnt toast, the open notebook and the Tupperware lid still lying defiantly in the middle of the kitchen floor.

My inspirational morning had lasted exactly seventy-five minutes.

I picked up my phone and deleted the alarm for tomorrow.

Then I changed my list.

TODAY’S GOALS

1. Survive.
2. Wear pants when legally necessary.
3. Don’t answer the door.
4. Maybe shower.
5. Lower expectations.

And you know what?

I immediately felt better.

Because sometimes getting your life together isn’t about waking up at 6:00 a.m., meditating, doing yoga and drinking lemon water.

Sometimes it’s about accepting that the avocado is dead, the Tupperware cupboard has chosen violence, and you already deserve a nap.

It was 7:22am.

I went back to bed.

Productivity could leave a message.

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