Rightsizing my thinking...

Yesterday was all about cognitive restructuring, which sounds more labor-intensive that it is. And I am by no means a skilled craftsperson in this endeavor. Which is funny, since I help other people with theirs, for a living. (sort of... it's a small living at present.)

Recycling day usually meets with annoyance in our household. Everything has to be separated and bagged and out early. With the snow and cold - and our recent vacation - there was much muttering and cursing as I wrangled our larger-than-usual pile to the curb. Since I've started using my own fabric bags for shopping, we are now out of paper bags ( for recycling) and plastic bags (for wastebaskets). This is annoying - the job gets harder as I try to maximize the usefulness of the remaining bags. But - I need to look at this new challenge as evidence of the impact of downsizing; less buying and reusable bags has already impacted our household waste. Plus, it's just so gratifying to have a big pile of stuff leaving the house, hopefully to be recycled. I have to admit to some trust issues as to what they actually do with all that paper/plastic/glass/metal etc.

So I am leaving for preschool, backing out of the garage carefully to a.) not 'downsize' the mirrors and b.) avoid knocking over the admittedly precarious pile of recycling. I cranked the wheel at precisely the wrong moment - which landed my front end over the no-go zone of ice between the alley and our driveway. Much rocking, shifting, ice melter and shoveling got me exactly nowhere. Meanwhile, my 4 year old is offering me helpful hints like "You're going to have to get out and push. We're really stuck." I was taking this in stride, considering I usually have the frustration tolerance of a toddler on crack. Until - I looked up and saw the garbage truck coming down the alley that I was presently blocking. My mental process was as follows: "Just great! Here come's the ^%$#@! truck and I'm stuck and blocking them in." Then, in a rare but appreciated moment of ah-ha, "Great!!! Here's the truck, I'm stuck, and blocking THEM IN." After watching me struggle ineffectually for a couple more minutes, two burly gentleman get out, tell me how to point my tires, and push us out. I only got a minor lecture on my inferior snow-clearing practices that got me stuck and make their jobs tougher all winter long. I told them I'd pass their concerns on to my Supervisor of Maintenance (shout out to Bob!), thanked them profusely for their help, and with a cheery wave I'm off. Almost on time. Because I was still running late for school and my massage appointment. But I'm late for my MASSAGE appointment. It's all about the perspective.