When I was in college, I would often procrastinate on projects or big papers until the last minute. This is not because I was lazy (well, at least no totally because I was lazy), but because I was afraid of failure. Afraid to start because I was afraid the finished product would be a flop. But, inevitably, I would start the project with just a day or two to spare, get going, hit my stride, finish up, and get an A. I can remember the feeling of getting two or three paragraphs into a paper, realizing, “Hey, this isn’t so bad!” and sailing through the rest of it. And at the end of it, I did love the fulfillment of getting a good grade.
Though I don’t find myself longing for my college days (the work, after all, did get a little heavy at times), I often long for that feeling again. Because for some reason in adulthood, in motherhood, in being a grown-up in general, I don’t feel like I’ve hit my stride. I am afraid to try and get myself on a schedule because I am afraid I won’t stick to it. Same with an exercise program (not helped by the fact that I abhor exercising). I haven’t yet found the thrill of satisfaction in a clean house, drawers full of folded laundry, or even in a home-cooked meal. I haven’t yet made the Dean’s List for housewives, and I don’t know that I ever will. And truthfully, I am afraid to try. Afraid of the failure that looms as a big and likely possibility. Afraid that soon the only sign of my efforts will be that sorely neglected planner I buy every year and never use.
I have gone from someone who performed well under pressure to someone who avoids it like the plague. I love to do things for others but find the responsibilities of my household overwhelming. I am not kidding when I tell you that the idea that I have to be somewhere at the same time five days a week (to pick Joshua up from school) terrifies me. But I know it will be good for me. And I am hoping that this big change in all of our schedules will be the motivation I need to do myself a favor and establish a more workable rhythm to my days. Because if I can do that, maybe little by little, I’ll get into a groove, and maybe, hopefully, I might even hit my stride.
