You see, FlyLady said, oh so casually, to find an old three-ring binder and just stick some paper in it. She was careful not to mention the fateful words anywhere on the webpage, but I know what that is, FlyLady. That's my control journal.
Last time I did FlyLady, my control journal was a vortex. It was the prettiest control journal you ever saw in all your born days, and I did next to nothing listed in it. I modified it for over two years before I admitted I hadn't put its sage advice into practice. Eventually, it just represented failure. *sigh*
Also, last time, I didn't do Baby Steps. (Because I didn't really need the FlyLady last time, remember?) My hope is that this time, I will not obsess over and consequently hate my control journal. That it will not choke me to death and swallow me whole. That I will apply the Baby Steps approach to it, cool as a cucumber. That I will be able to reach out and touch it without singeing my finger. That I won't hear it scream every time I pass by. That I...
Oh, shoot. I'm already obsessing.
The other reason I dreaded the control journal is that a regular-sized three-ring binder is too big for my style. Clunky. Cumbersome. Flimsy. Weak. Breakable. Prone to wear and tear. And very overwhelming. Plus, I have a little shelf I want to set it on. Too little for a big binder.
So I started wandering around the house aimlessly, looking for something smaller I could use as my control journal. Low and behold, my eyes fell upon a gem sticking out of the office supplies jungle.
My husband's old day planner. Leather. Durable.
Snatching it up, I found it to contain a ready supply of paper! And a notepad! And a pencil! Could it be? Could it possibly be that God planned this all along? I mean, I know He knows my fears and understands my mental blocks and sees what I dread and all, but this was just too perfect. Too divine. Too much like a blatant gust of "I love you" from Abba. (Of course, beings as how there's nothing my God cannot do, none of these things are "too" anything for Him.)
FlyLady said, "At the top of one page write Morning Routine..."
"...and at the top of another page write Before Bed Routine." Okay, Casual FlyLady.
"Now you can write your simple routines on each page."
"This is a working document; do not allow your perfectionism to interfere with the process." Hmmm? What's that? What perfectionism? I'm not, uh... Oh, you mean the perfectionism that made my control journal into a vortex last time? That perfectionism, FlyLady?
Actually, this doesn't look super overwhelming, all written down. How very pleasing. Even inserted my very own special red pencil. Happy, happy.
Oh, and by the way, I got up, got dressed and spent time in front of the mirror this morning. I didn't set the timer or take pictures of my hot spots, but I took out all the recycling that had burgeoned out of its container onto the kitchen floor, and I folded four loads of laundry. That counts.
Instead of dreading this day's task, it has thrilled me all the way down to my happily red-painted toes.