Now, I have a family calendar that hangs in the pantry, my iPhone with both work and personal calendars and a number of scraps of paper with lists. It's my odd way of keeping up with this household.
Sundays, I plan meals because we have to go the grocery story (ugh). I also plan my workouts.
As I place the meal plan on the refrigerator (magnet-held list) and pop the workout plan into my carry-around file folder with all kinds of personal dealings (oh, I forgot, there's a today, this week, this weekend to-do list in there), everything is so doable.
Then comes life.
When do you fit in runs to Target or Walgreens for some random school required project supply? Or, when do you slot in going through the pile of mail that has accumulated over a few days -- is this election cycle over already? I mean, how many prop this or that mailers does one need to receive?
There's filling up the truck with gas, picking up clothes from the cleaners, doing laundry, and on and on.
A glance to the meal plan and workout schedules restores hope. I can focus on those plans and know, yes, I will get them done. But there is something blocking my view. A stack of dirty dishes in the sink that can't go in the dishwasher because it has clean dishes in it that need to be put away.
Least favorite chore. And yet it has to be done. Everyday? Each and everyday. How many dishes do the planned meals take? The knives, the spoons, the plastic cups, the small plates ... so many, so often.
Now, should I create meal plans that don't require dishes? Those kind of meals require a different kind of workout -- a lot of cardio that I didn't put on the calendar. Truly, the workouts have to be done in the mornings because that's when I have the 30 minutes Karena and Katrina require of me.
Plus, the evenings are for unloading and then loading the dishwasher. I do that so I can get a fourth part. Calendar or no calendar, adhered to or not, I'm finding a fourth part.