By Trina Machacek
We all move at different paces. Paces change with the tasks we are preforming. The performance of tasks is directly related to a few factors. First of course is if we even want to do whatever is on our list of things to do. I need to write every week. I can zoom through a writing task like water through a colander. But! Yes a somewhat sloth like “but.”
Ask me to take clothes out of the dryer and I will happily run out of clean underwear before I go get the ones waiting for me there. Getting clothes out of the dryer sees me being a sloth motivated individual.
Second to set the speed of doing a task is the reason for doing it. Is it really necessary to clean out the garage—yet? There is still room to drive my truck in the garage and open at least the driver’s door. Oh sure, sure I could move the stuff I have been piling in the garage all winter to the storage shed.
But there I run into the problem of moving the last things I placed so neatly on the floor in the middle of the shed onto the shelves. Which of course would involve moving the shelf stuff to. I have no idea. Oh I’ll do it all before I can’t even open the driver’s door when I pull into my garage. Moving stuff is hard and slow and finds me moving at a turtles pace and also pulling in my head so I don’t see all that I need to move.
Third and I think most dramatic is this one. Maybe this one is most of us. I find this fits many of the recognizable humans I come in contact with. Next to my laptop are piles of piles of things to do. I give many thanks that I did finish my taxes so that pile has been moved to the file cabinet. But while I was putting the taxes in the file cabinet I saw a list of things I want to accomplish this spring.
Here is where the “squirrel action” takes place. So I tra-la, tra-la along my path, about to accomplish a specific task and something catches my baby blues then like a shot out of a cannon my mind screams “SQUIRREL!” Like a force from a passing hurricane I am pulled in a brand new direction.
Yes. I am a “squirrel visionary.” So I grabbed that list, to carry it from the pile it was set on to put it on a brand new pile of tasks-in-waiting sitting out next to my lap top.
It wasn’t a seamless move though. Oh no. I stopped along the way when I caught a glimpse of a cat out in the field through the window chasing—what else? A squirrel. HAHA that reminded me that I hadn’t fed the cats yet so with the list from the top of the file cabinet in my hand I grabbed up the old three pound coffee can I use to feed the cats their food.
I set down the list, filled the can with cat food and stepped out my back door to fill the feeder. While outside I said to myself, “Self.” Yes, I have to talk to me this way because I don’t seem to listen to well to my inner voice, I need vocals! Self said, “What.” “Better fill the water tub while I’m out here.” Oh a triple squirrel move. From the list to the feed to the water.
Actually this all came to me this past week when finally the sun came out long enough for me and my neighbor to spy a ground squirrel out my window one morning.
That crazy thing had to dig his way up through about a foot of snow to reach the fresh cold March air of Diamond Valley. I could just imagine what the rodent was thinking. “Well, didn’t expect to see this!” Then he came all the way out of his hidey hole, abruptly turned around and dived back down into the hole. Yes, even squirrels have “squirrel” moments.
No matter how slow we move or even if we are like the proverbial quick brown fox, we all seem to get things done. Work, school or play. There seems to be an unwritten focus I follow. Sloth, turtle and squirrel.
I wish I could always have enough energy to squirrel from one thing to another to another. I think I used to have that zoom mode more often. Now though I am quite satisfied with just an occasional burst of squirrel. Oh man. Where did I put that list?
Trina lives in Eureka. Her funny books are available wherever you buy books. Or email her at itybytrina@yahoo.com to buy signed copies.