How to get up in the morning and not hate life

I am not a morning person. I don't think I will ever be. But I've recently changed my story about what getting up is or should mean and I think it's made it easier.

I used to think that most people (or morning people, if you like) just got up easily and sprung out of bed feeling refreshed and not wanting to sleep any more, and I spent a long time trying and waiting for that to happen to me. It never did, so I concluded that perhaps I was just shit at getting up or I wasn't a morning person or whatever that meant, and that was okay, but it did mean that for a long time my story about getting up was "Nobody has as hard a time as me and/or enjoys falling back to sleep as much as me, therefore I have it harder than everyone else and I should get a free pass."

It wasn't really a conscious thing, I don't think I was genuinely assuming that I was unique and special in hating mornings or loving to snooze, but by believing that it was particularly hard for me allowed me to keep making excuses and keep letting it be hard while also being annoyed at myself for finding such a simple and common task hard. I don't remember where I first came across the idea that getting up just actually is an awful sensation for most people, it could have been reddit, or it could have been College Info Geek, but anyway, I read somewhere that snoozing is counterproductive specifically because waking up from sleep is the hard part. Now, I'd read lots of times, as I'm sure you have, that snoozing is bad, but it never really seemed to make sense before until I read this. When you wake up from sleep you've done the hard part. Why would you then repeat that by snoozing and forcing yourself to go through that again? I do know why - it's because falling back to sleep is just so absolutely delicious and doesn't feel the same when you're meant to be doing it e.g. at night. So I now have the following morning routine:

Alarm goes off exactly 18 minutes before I need to be up. It starts very quietly, almost imperceptibly, and slowly gets louder. There's nothing alarming about it, no vibration, no sudden sound.

I'm allowed ONE free pass, one glorious moment where I can hit the default snooze (10 minutes) and slide back into that creamy, soft, warm sleep. I stand by that. It works for me. Snoozing isn't the enemy as long as you're in control.

Next alarm, snooze, more conscious, 5 minutes. This is where the hard part starts but I'm allowed a little fail on this one - I try to keep my eyes open and look at my phone. Sometimes something interesting enough will be happening in the world to engage me, but mostly sleep wins.

Lastly my final alarm goes off and - this is crucial - I cannot turn this one off without getting out of bed and carrying my phone to the bathroom (it's barcode deactivated - lots of free apps do this), and from there I do all that morning stuff - toilet and teeth and face and hands. I hate this. I cannot describe to you how horrible and arduous it seems. But by the time I've finished brushing my teeth something miraculous has happened, it turns out that I've done the hardest part and I don't have to do it again until the next day - as long as I don't let myself go back to bed. But it's done - almost without thinking, without really being awake enough to be aware. And so I can also pat myself on the back for getting through the hard part because I genuinely know that it is hard and that's not some kind of moral failing of mine. I'm managing self-reward now - are you reading this, me from 5, 10 years ago?  There was a time when I really felt that I was incapable of that, but now I realise that I just wasn't admitting to myself that it's okay to find things hard and that hard things really are worth rewarding.

I find these days that snoozing too many times on days I don't need to get up early is less fulfilling or enjoyable than it used to be, perhaps because that one controlled snooze just...works. I'm still not a morning person but it is manageable, and all it took was that changing of the story - from "It's too hard, I can't do it, I'm not the right kind of person" to "Yes, it's hard and it's okay that it's hard because I'm going to get over it like this."

I wonder how many other things in my life I need to change the story on.

Optimism

The situation in the last post sort of resolved itself. Or got worse. Or didn't? I don't really know. Is it important?

Yeah, probably.

I should probably explain a bit more. I took on some extra classes back in the late spring. I was just covering another teacher but it meant I had a late morning through to evening schedule, and it was amazing. It just worked for me. Far better than the early morning + late evening with mass gap in the middle I had been dealing with.

So I asked my husband if he minded me doing more of this. He said it was a great idea, so I went to my employer, who also thought it was great.

EVERYTHING IS GREAT. YAY.

So, the problem here, was that they set me an impossible task, and I agreed to it, because I'm endlessly optimistic and don't seem to notice that this often goes quite badly for me. The impossible task was learning to drive in two months. They basically told me that it was difficult. I knew that I didn't have enough time. What I also knew but didn't tell them was that I have ADHD and, um, there are actual trends that show driving is harder for people with ADHD, so that two months which was difficult for a normal person is basically extra hard for me. But I was optimistic, so I said okay, sure!

The other problem. I somehow assumed that during the conversation about my working more late morning through to evening days, that my husband got the memo that he was agreeing (in my head) to then cover the gap after school when our son comes home. This was completely clear to me because late morning through to evening also includes the early afternoon, and also because as part of this deal I promised to deal with the mornings, and also, why the F was I asking his permission to work, if I wasn't asking him if he was OK with going to work early and doing the extra childcare?

But yeah, OK, to be fair, I probably didn't spell it out exactly that this was what I wanted.

So - now it is much longer than two months later. I have failed two tests. I did pass theory the first time - memory, yay! But I am not doing well at the practical tests. Husband is straining to cover the childcare. I am paying aaaall the money to the tram system. Hoping optimistically that the driving school just let me keep driving until I pass and pay them later. Hoping optimistically that my employer doesn't just get fed up and give my job to someone else. Basically just smiling manically and hoping for the best in all scenarios while totally failing to plan.

You know when you plan? Can you see the plan in your head? Can you hold it there while you work out what happens on the next step? Because I can't do that. I have to write it down and even that in itself is hard. I start writing. I get several steps in. And it feels like the cogs in my brain are jammed, like they are buffering, or turning so slowly. I can't focus on anything and it all just swims and it's hard. I can plan... but it takes me a huge amount of effort and several sessions because one session producing the first step is exhausting.

Last Posting Date

Here's something else I struggle with: thinking things through in advance.

This usually manifests in a boringly normal way; I am late for most things. Routine things are okay now, like work. I got fed up of arriving sweaty and panicked or worrying I was going to lose my job constantly and decided to try and fix that and it works okay for the most part. It's routine, it makes sense. I may occasionally run for the train and suspect it may all fall apart if I ever learn to drive, but hey.

The event that inspired me to write this post was realising, at almost 2 am, that it is now four days before Christmas and hence too late to post any parcels back home. I had sort of vaguely mentioned this to my husband this morning in a sort of "Oh, weren't we going to do that?" manner. He said no.

So how does this happen? Presumably I had some kind of idea that I wanted to send a box of stuff home. So how does it get to this point where I'm suddenly realising it's too late? This is what I've deduced happens. I'm milling around quite happily, living my life, vaguely thinking about sending a box of stuff for Christmas, but Christmas is months away. Don't need to think about that yet! And then suddenly the day draws close. I think about sending a box for more than a few seconds and realise that I needed to:
1. Get an idea of what kind of thing I wanted to buy, either by going and looking around shops or by speaking to the intended recipient.
2. Actually buy the stuff. Could possibly be combined with 1.
3. Buy or find an envelope and/or box of the appropriate size.
4. Pack the items rather than letting them sit in the house for weeks.
5. Post them in time for the appropriate date.

This all seems a little overwhelming when I realise it hopelessly too late. I should have thought about thus earlier, then I'd have time. The steps I'm missing are these two.
1. Work out what all of those steps in the first list actually are.
2. Working backwards from the last posting date, work out how much time (realistically) each step needs and hence when it needs to be started/finished by.

Fine, you think. Now it's all sorted. Except no, because it doesn't matter how long or short this list of tasks and allocated time is, the fact is that I needed to do that second list (the thinking in advance part) in advance. To even conceive the first list I need to do the second and to conceive the second list, I need to do... the second. Great. Thanks, brain! I assume that other people do these things semi-automatically, but somehow when they made my neural circuits that part got short-circuited, leaving me standing there on 20th December feeling crappy that I haven't sent a Christmas parcel to my folks. Well, thank god for internet shopping!

Basically, I am a massive twat.

Sometimes (okay most of the time) I am terrible at expressing myself.

I seem to be incapable of saying anything without it coming out critical. Can't say anything nice without adding a point for improvement. Can't state something nicely that I want changing, have to blurt out something hurtful instead.

It's shit and the net result is, I'm pissing off the people I love or I keep stuff inside which is bothering me because I don't trust myself to say it in a tactful way.

I mean, is this something you can learn? I don't know how to do it and it's upsetting me.

The Dark Playground

I saw this post on Wait But Why a few days ago and it so utterly resonated with me that I had to repost it. I was just waiting for a good moment to introduce it.

Why Procrastinators Procrastinate

I'm not going to summarise, because it is brilliance and it needs to be read, especially if you've ever struggled with procrastination and been told "You just need to be more organised!" "It's all about good time management!" "You should learn to prioritise." or the killer "Well, it clearly isn't important to you. If it was you would have spent more time on it." Raise your hand if you have heard all of these, tried all of these, and still failed.

The Dark Playground is such a genius concept. I can't personally get my head around the idea of the monkey, but the playground is SO true and it's so refreshing to see it laid out like that. Helpful too. At least in theory. I can now tell you exactly when I'm in the dark playground. I spent all of today in it. Okay so that didn't help me get out of it (mainly because there wasn't some clear cut actual thing I could think of that I was avoiding, just general housework dirge) but acknowledgement is the first step towards defeat! Or something.

This is why people normally do the married thing before they have kids

I was just reading this post which I found through ikea hackers (sorry, but actual decoration blogs of people with perfect homes and even more perfect accessories just make me feel jealous and depressed, especially when I look around my own house which is full of "That'll do for now" and "mismatched and/or shabby, but definitely not chic" and "My landlord's taste in decoration (and budget)." - but I digress. I really liked the little anecdote they had about choosing lamps, and how having matching taste in lamps (or not) can seem like the MOST pressing and MOST ridiculously important thing at the time and the author managed to convey very convincingly the sheer panic of realising that, fuck, I've decided to spend my life with this person and what if we don't agree on the best way to make sandwiches???

We had a definite sandwich moment today. I bought a baguette, a real French baguette, and felt all pleased with myself and cultural as I carried it home in my arms because I hadn't brought my bag, and presented it to Creepy with a flourish. "I bought lunch!" I said proudly. "Now we can make a picnic if we need to go out!" He was pleased but said he wasn't ready to go yet. It was his weekend to choose, so I sat down and internetted for a while until he got up and looked as though he was starting to make sandwiches.

First he complained that I could have got some actual food. I felt deflated. I had specifically not bought things like meat and other fillings because the last time I remembered looking in the fridge, we had enough. Secret of Adulthood #1: Remember that groceries (and other supplies) can also get used up by people other than you. Anyway, he set about making some sandwiches and I said, oh, I'll make my own. I had a very specific idea of a sandwich, and I didn't want him ruining it when I'd gone to the trouble of actually buying nice bread. He refused and I became a bit panicky. I may have shouted at this point. He later told me that I had, anyway. So then he got a bit antsy at being shouted at and basically it was all one big mood/weird/disaster. All over a stupid sandwich. And he cut the bread wrong, so even when I made my own sandwich, it wasn't what I wanted it to be anyway. AND HELLO IT WAS A FUCKING SANDWICH.

And I can look back at this and realise that it's just all kinds of ridiculous, and would it have even mattered if he made my sandwich with the gross kind of weird sausage, and anyway HE WAS ASKING what I wanted in it, but instead I just panicked because he didn't do it in the same way as me. And I hate the way that he fries foods, but I've sort of lost how to ask "Please could you try using a bit less fat or drain it before you put mine on the plate or at least use a nice kind of oil and not the cheapest vegetable oil in the supermarket" without whining or shouting or panicking (which leads to shouting, which I don't get. How come me from the non-shouty to the point of frustrating family explodes at the slightest stress whereas he from the shouting-replaces-all-emotion family hates shouting and really doesn't know how to deal with it?)

We keep having total communication failures as well currently. Tonight we both failed to put Mini D to bed because we were assuming the other was doing it. When we went around the supermarket I was told halfway through "Well you're supposed to be seeing what we need for X situation" Thanks. Would have been nice to know that from the start! And the other weekend we argued about whether we had planned to clean that weekend or not. And this is really hard - to resolve when every time I try to resolve something I feel either attacked or terrified (not him, just previous abuse stuff coming up) overthink how to say it, fight the tendency to shout by having a shouting match in my head which then leads to tears because it doesn't get resolved. I want to be able to have these conversations with him but it feels unfair to do that around Mini D when I am prone to shouting or crying and don't seem to be able to resolve things without either of those happening. It would have been nice, on reflection, to have time without him to figure that kind of stuff out.

One more thing - scheduling.

You'd think I'd have learnt this by now. When someone asks "Are you free to do X" it's perfectly fine to just say "Let me check and get back to you" and not just "Yes". Leads to all sorts of headaches and ridiculousness when I actually check with the other people and they say no.

I can't be that person

I am not the mother that I want to be.

I am patient but only when I am not tired, which is most of the time. I am too easily irritated. I blow up in a rage too easily (I am getting better at avoiding this). I don't always enjoy the company of my son - THAT is the worst one, for me, the bringer of the biggest load of guilt. God, how I used to "feel sad" for kids whose parents didn't want to spend every waking moment with them. Hi guise. I am sorry. Please can I join your club?

When he was tiny I had all of these expectations and plans and everything was going to be perfect. Well, I failed my first hurdle when I tried EC (elimination communication). That's where you hold them over a pot every time you think they need a wee, and somehow your superior connection with them allows them to do this. Skips potty training. Yeah, failed that one. Once he could crawl he didn't want to be held over a potty, he wanted to be out there, crawling and doing stuff. Didn't potty train until he was over 3. Still won't poo anywhere other than home two years later.

I was going to get him used to all of these lovely home cooked foods and instead when we were first on our own we had no oven and no microwave, he lived off veggieburgers and frozen veg for months and then stopped eating and since then has been the fussiest eater ever. I see people whose children eat couscous and chickpeas and soup - fucking soup!! - and feel shit. Baby-Led weaning, you lied.

I was useless at wrap slings. I forgave myself for this one (like I forgave myself for the EC thing, once I realised MOST PEOPLE DON'T DO THIS and IT IS A MAD IDEA.)

I think I took from my mum, and my grandma, that to be a good mother you just had to be kind. And so I sort of sat back and relaxed, because I am pretty kind, I am a nice person, job done. I read all of these theories and they fitted in with my "be kind" mantra, and I think I felt like I was done. This is the old "clever but lazy" thing coming out in me again from school. Oh yes. I have the theories, I know how to do this right, I have great ideas about how to carry it out, too. This will be awesome. Do you know what I did this year? I planned little activities to do every day of Advent to celebrate Christmas and get the Christmas excitement flowing. Well, it's the 11th of December, 2 weeks to go and we have done not one thing on that list.

This is just, basically, a perfect illustration of every fucking thing I do. I have a good idea. I get really psyched about the idea. It's going to be fun. It's really going to work this time - look, I made a pretty colour coded chart and everything! Then, whatever it is happens, I'm motivated for maybe the first one or two, if that, and then I fall back on my usual which is to do nothing and stay up on the internet for hours.

It's some kind of torture. I know exactly what I want to do, I watch myself not do it, and then I have the exact details of what I should have done (and failed to do, again) differently to beat myself up with. Maybe my standards are too high and I'm setting myself up to fail, I don't know. But, to be honest, even when I make myself a totally piss-easy target I fall short from that after a short while, and I get down because it's not even that I don't do something well enough, it's that I quite often don't do it at all.

It gets me down. I can't seem to be the person I so desperately want to be. Hell, I can't even seem to be a normal person who functions adequately.

CV Writing

I have so much to post about GERMANY (said with a hard G) but I keep forgetting to update. Okay, that can wait, for today's rant topic of choice is writing CVs.

I should probably know how to do this by now. It's really not rocket science. You list your education, and previous employment, and then write a bit about yourself which is hopefully relevant to the job you're applying for, stick your contact details on top and you're good to go.

Instead, though, I'm reading loads of German CV websites, which have (by the looks of things) the same 20 years out of date advice as the British ones, (I remember solemnly putting my "health: good" and "non-smoking" status on my application for my first ever job), advising you to include such things as your marital status and number of children.  From speaking to my expat group, this seems to exist purely so that they can ask you at interview how you plan to juggle those three children and work. I have a funny little feeling that this question isn't asked of fathers, so I decided to leave that one off. Still, it's not so bad. Apparently 20 years ago it was standard to include your parents' occupations on a CV, so maybe those websites aren't too out of date after all.

So, getting past the issue of personal information, now it comes down to qualifications. The UK is unusual and a bit awkward in that we don't have an overall grade or mark for high school, but separate grades for each subject. This is probably a good thing, but it's a pain when you left nearly 20 years ago and can't remember what grade you got for what or even half of the subjects that you took. I decided to stick with the number and the grade range.

Then it comes to my qualifications after school, which are, to be perfectly honest, something of a giant mess. I've trained in at least three totally unrelated areas, and not finished any of the qualifications except for my CELTA (which I got a kick-ass grade in, so YEAH!) Have added most of those on the hope that the names they give you for crappy half-finished qualifications won't be understood by anybody who hasn't been educated in England or Wales and I can blag that it's something more important than it is.

Then comes the most dreaded part: personal interests and hobbies. Oh, please. One day, I will fill this section in honestly and say "In my free time, I like to eat crisps and refresh facebook and feedly endlessly in an exhausted sort of manner. If I'm feeling really indulgent, I might even have a bath instead of a shower, that is, if I can be bothered to remove 38 assorted plastic toys from it first." But no, instead you have to invent all sorts of interesting hobbies that you probably would do if you had the time. One site even told me to avoid putting any extreme/dangerous sports in, such as skydiving. Well, god forbid you come across as too interesting!

Anyway, wish me luck!