In recent months, I’ve discovered I’m a relatively uninteresting person. I can talk about things I do did at work, I can discuss the book I’m currently reading, the cool stuff I did in my early 20s, every moment of my child’s life and I can stretch conversation about the weather to three minutes. Once the conversation moves beyond these few topics, I’m at a loss for what to say and often say something inappropriate or stupid. My doctor tried really hard to blame it on Asperger’s (which I don’t have) and ADD (which I do have) but after multiple tests determined that I try to be social but really don’t have much to say. Luckily, my friends forgive me for being a dullard and most of them manage to listen to me talk about my child copiously without getting a glazed look on their face. What can I say? Drue has a bigger life than I do! The good news is that I have good friends and am very thankful for that. But I think it’s time to put them, and me, out of our collective misery.
I recently conducted an internal survey with myself and found that the times I bore myself are increasing. My foot falling asleep? Yeah, that’s just my body’s way of telling me I even bore myself to tears! I also determined that I no longer do any of the things that once interested me and occupied my time. And closing the door part of the way and calling for my dog, only to have him keen and whine because he “can see me, and knows I am there but there is this partially open thing in his way!!!” does not count nor make me an interesting person to anyone other than my cat (who thoroughly enjoys this exercise in tormenting Kodi). Looking back over my life the last decade, I’ve really stopped living per se and spent a lot of time existing. Sure there was the time from 2000 to 2003 where I did every craft and cooked every meal in the Martha Stewart catalogues but that was more about surviving the first years as a stay-at-home-mom or SAHM as the kids call it today. And I’d never admit it to anyone, except well you and you and maybe you, that there was ever a time in my life where I would sit on the floor and cry because my Martha Stewart Living magazine was three days later this month than last month. Additionally, to fill the gaps in my life, I conspicuously consume and while my house is full of stuff, my life is pretty empty at the moment.
The fact is that I don’t know what I like and don’t like to do anymore. I’ve become an armchair critic blathering on about the good old days. But at 34, I’m supposed to be creating the memories now to talk about in 50 years… not talking about my early 20s as if the best years are over and all that’s left for me is day time television.
So what’s a girl to do? Well, I stumbled upon this website, Day Zero – The Home of the 101 Things to do in 1001 Days. The mission behind this website is to motivate people to complete 101 preset tasks in 1001 days. The tasks must be specific with a result that is either measurable or clearly defined. Tasks must be realistic and require some effort on the individuals part to accomplish. While I am bummed that I cannot put “fly in a space shuttle” on my task list (note, the realistic part), I am pretty excited to start working on my list.
My personal goal is to come up with a list of things I’ve always wanted to do and been too scared, or busy, or just plain unmotivated, because Wipeout was on television, to do. There may be a few things on there that I haven’t done in years and have missed (rock climbing) and one thing I need to do for myself that will require a little more therapy to accomplish (playing the piano, don’t ask). My list will be posted by August 31st! I’ve decided September 1st of this year is my personal day zero. For now, I have a dog who desperately wants to play ball and a cat stalking his tail, both of which require my attention. See you on the flip side!