Next time. I promise.


I like to keep things mostly honest around here. Often I don't talk about the more sour moments of life because if it involves another person, I don't want to share a story that isn't mine to share. This one, however, for better or worse belongs to me.

A few days ago, I shared about the Valentine's Day boxes Adrian and I put together for some of my friends. While I love how they ultimately turned out, the process of getting there was less confetti and more tear-filled eyes. 

Adrian always says that in my professional life, I'm an entirely different Emily. I am this task-driven, organized, must-finish-everything-early woman that I think I would hardly recognize at home. At home, I'm more laid-back and easy with a laugh. I don't take things quite as seriously and I don't feel this constant drive to finish all the things. Emily-at-home often embodies the very characteristics that drive me crazy at work.

I have this awful pattern of leaving tasks for the very last minute at home and I dislike that so much. It's as if, professionally I have learned to complete tasks well in advance, but at home I just haven't learned yet. And it irritates Adrian and I know this because I know how that feels. And yet, I am so. slow. to change. With every project, photo shoot and party, I heavily underestimate the time it will take me to set everything up, put things together and put on the finishing touches. And every time, Adrian, sometimes happily but more often begrudgingly, comes to my rescue. 

And we know this. And every time, with frustrated tears in my eyes, I promise that next time it will be different. Yet, it rarely is. If only professional Emily would stop by the house every now and again, lending her ambition, drive, and focus to at-home Emily. 

Normally when I write about something like this, I like to wrap it up with a pretty bow. With some well-crafted sentence about how I learned this or that and turned things around. And so can you! Confetti floats down, everyone claps and we all go home, all the better for whatever wisdom I've imparted to the masses.

But I don't have a well-crafted sentence or the answer or even a suggestion, because I haven't figured it out. I haven't learned how to take the best of who I am at work and who I am at home and just become one decent person in both places. 

So I'm hoping that if I write it here and think about it, that next time maybe I'll be more cognizant of my habits and I'll think of this post and remember how for all ours sakes (namely, Adrian's and mine), I've got to start earlier. I've got to think through my plans and try them out and make sure they work. And if they don't, I've got to come up with a plan B. And then try that, too. But I have to start early.

Next time, Adrian. I promise.

4 comments:

  1. Small steps Grasshopper, small steps.

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  2. Hahah, yes my dad is pretty awesome. He's always reminding me that as long as I'm moving forward, I'm doing alright. And so glad to find others who admit to not everything going exactly as planned. I have a party coming up this weekend so we'll see how it goes! It's a good chance to put all this into practice.

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  3. UGH can I just say that I love this post? I mean, I'm sorry you haven't figured it out - that's really frustrating. but as a reader it's comforting to hear that sometimes the standing on chairs happens at the 11th hour or whatever but that you're working on it because that happens to me too. (I'm kind of sick of the "and so can you!" mentality because it's not helpful from a practical OR emotional standpoint.) Anyway, rock on.

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  4. Thanks Betsy! I debated about whether to post and then I thought this side of things needs to be written more often. So I posted it. Sometimes I make mistakes. Probably so do you. Let's be okay with that.

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