The end of suffering

In my household, I handle most of the financial paperwork. Non-resident US citizens get to file in June. I tried to get my return put together today. But realised that I had deleted inadvertently last year's return, which has information I need. And managed to delete it before getting the current back up routine established.  And I get statements on-line, which means I need to remember the log-ins and passwords once a year. And the sun was glaring on the computer, and the battery was dead on the control for the sun shade. and and and...

I spent more than three hours today trying to get started. The level of dis-organisation made it more difficult. I'm taking notes how to improve the process for next year.

I ended up feeling a little guilty for being so reliable with  my training and nutrition  - that maybe I'm neglecting my financial health. I was thinking about this at New Years too. But I can't view it as either or. I can use my self-care skills to improve my attention to my finances.  I made a list of ideas to make next year's return easier. And I gave  myself a break when I kept running into walls.  I went out for a five k run  with lots of walking warm-up and cool down and 200 m intervals at a fast pace - 4:30 - 5:00/km. with 200m Rest intervals.

I felt better when I came back. My hip muscles didn't start bothering me until 25 minutes into the run, at which point I stopped running the intervals. This was supposed to be an easy recovery run. It was, but I spiced it up a little, listening carefully to how it felt.

I felt so upset at my lack of progress this afternoon on my paperwork.  Some of the semi-chaos relates to working too many hours at work, and not paying close enough attention to stuff that runs on auto-pilot for most of the year. I thought about how my own attitudes and habits really contribute to this.

I could have (as in the past) hunkered down and used this as an excuse not to exercise. I am proud of choosing to out for a run instead.

I was unable to resist the caramel ice cream on a stick that Nathaniel handed me however. He had taken a bite and decided he didn't like it. You eat it, he says. I happen to like caramel a lot. So I obliged him.  The price of being the mom, I suppose.