I have a weird complex about asking people who I know are busy to do things for me. Which is a problem, because people I work with tend to be busy, and I tend to occasionally need them to do things for me. So I enter into a stupid mental block:

• I need to do x, but first I need to know y from Person A.
• Oh man, Person A has 18 things going on right now, and I hate to ask them for such a small thing.
• Maybe I’ll just check Twitter real quick.
• Oh shoot, I should really work on that thing I need to do.
• Oh right, I needed to ask Person A.
• Cycle begins again.

I do a lot of yak-shaving during this process, in addition to Twitter checking. I specifically seek out small things on my to-do list that I can do completely autonomously and I knock them the hell out, which is fine, and feels good, and is somewhat productive. But I still end up not having knocked out the thing I initially set out to do.

THIS IS SUCH A STUPID WORKFLOW.

Eventually I ask Person A for what I need, and they never give me any indication that I am a bother, or that they mind giving me the information I need. Sometimes it does take them some amount of time to get back to me, but hello, they are a busy person, which is why I entered my Cycle of Stupid in the first place, so that’s reasonable. And just think, if I had nixed my weird fear of asking them earlier, I would have gotten a response earlier and would have finished my part of the project earlier.

To be clear, this is not like a weeks-long, or even days-long, cycle. Usually the span of an hour or a morning at the most. But why is it that I feel so unworthy of asking someone to do a thing I need them to do?!?

You know that saying, “If you want something done, ask a busy person”? I really think it’s true. When I have more to do, I focus more on doing it efficiently and I get much more accomplished. When I ask a busy person for something, especially if it is small in the scheme of their day, it’s probably satisfying for them to be able to cross it off. It is a viable thing for me to ask for help, or information, or input! I am a viable member of a team! No one will hate me for asking!

…so basically I need to get over it.

Today a co-worker asked me to do something, and it was so not a big deal for me to do it, but when I told her it was done she said it felt like Christmas. How gratifying is that?! I didn’t think anything of her asking me to do it, I did it, it was no skin off my back, and it made her day. That’s my object lesson to remind myself that I’m allowed to ask for things, even if I know the person is busy.

Anyone else have a mental block that they know to be unproductive? What’s your approach when you need help or input on a project?

I don’t really know what this song is about, but I keep hearing this song on the new alternative radio station I’ve been listening to lately.

I didn’t know I was broken till I wanted to change.

It’s such a good anthem. I mean, really, who couldn’t stand to get better at something?

HEY! I wanna get better!

Swimming is my version of “it’s like riding a bike.” I think you could drop me in a pool in my sleep and, if I was near the wall, my body would do a flipturn before I even woke up. Who knows how many of them I have done in my lifetime?

I don’t remember learning to swim. Legend has it that my mom swam laps the day before I was born. I do remember deciding to join the swim team. I had been taking gymnastics for a year and was slated to repeat the beginner level the following year. I wasn’t built for gymnastics. But the summer in between those two school years, I conquered the highest level of swim lessons the YMCA offered, so the next step was to join the team. My mom, wisely not wanting to spend her days carting her child across town, said I had to choose between the two. My 8-year-old brain somehow had wisdom beyond its years and selected swimming. It was the right choice.

I had this shirt.

When I swim my mind goes quiet. I’m usually counting my strokes, or keeping track of the laps, or humming to myself. In high school I used to conjugate French verbs while I swam. I also liked to do fractions: I’m swimming 500 yards, and I’m on the 6th lap out of 20, so I’m 3/10 of the way done.

I spent many, many weekends like this:

Yeah, no one looks good in a swim cap.

And many, many more hours that way. I never could have gone to summer camp because summer was when we swam two-a-days. 7-9 in the morning and 4-6 in the afternoon, plus weights after that. I was very tan, and very fit. I never had the shopping-for-a-bathing-suit anxiety because I practically lived in one.

I’m glad I have a place to swim again, even if I’m only going once a week. Rowdy Gaines’ voice narrates my workout. When I botch a turn and my feet barely hit the wall, I hear him getting all worked up. “SHE MISSED THE TURN. SHE BARELY GOT ANY BOOST FROM THAT WALL. LET’S SEE IF SHE CAN CATCH BACK UP.” I think of how Michael Phelps won a race with his goggles leaking because he knew how many strokes he took. I’m pretty consistent like that too: 14 strokes of backstroke, then flip. 15 to finish. The water feels good to me. I’m glad I’m a swimmer.

There’s a cool store near where I live that offers weekly family meal plans. For a set price, you get 3 entrees with a corresponding side, an additional side dish, bread, and a dessert. It’s $89 + tax for a plan for two, which is extremely reasonable when you break it down! It’s more than you might spend on making the meals from scratch, but certainly less than you’d spend eating out (and I’d imagine it’s healthier, too).

You don’t get to choose what goes in it. They change up the menu every week, and you get whatever they’re offering. So, it wouldn’t work well if you’re on a special diet or have allergies or sensitivities. They’re totally aware of this, but they can only do so much!

I decided to give the meal plan a shot one week when I knew I’d be out of pocket for several evenings. I figured Andy could “cook” the meals at dinner time and then we could both enjoy the leftovers for lunch. I put in my order the week before and gave a credit card over the phone, so when I picked it up they literally just pulled a box for me from the back! I wasn’t sure how exactly it would be set up, but it was really nicely packaged and organized.

Everything came in individual to-go containers in one big box:

That’s peanut butter chocolate pie on the top there. Let’s just say Andy never got to eat that particular dish…

The reheating instructions are included and incredibly simple.

It helped to have the instructions because that also served as the identifier for what everything was!

Unfortunately for our meal plan, Andy ended up being out several nights that week, too, and so not everything got prepared in a timely manner. I’d say we ended up eating the majority of it, but it wasn’t quite the stress-reducer and time-saver I’d hoped it would be. Honestly, I’d enjoy it more if I were home every night! I might try it again if another menu strikes my fancy, but it definitely won’t become a regular thing for me. It’s a bit of a bummer that you can’t customize at all. One of the sides the week we ordered was a cucumber and heirloom tomato salad–but neither of us likes tomatoes! Womp womp. So it’s worth keeping an eye on the menus and only ordering when you like a majority of the week’s offerings.

I’m completely enamored of the store for other reasons, though, so they’ll get plenty of business from me. They have a great selection of affordable wines, delicious prepared chicken salad you can buy containers of, and countless other cute and local delicacies. And I can walk to it, which is always a positive in my book!

Have you ever tried a meal service? Do any stores around you offer something like this?

If you live in Atlanta and would like to check out the particular store I’m talking about, check out the family meal plan page here!

There’s a sacredness in chopping vegetables, the rhythm of it, the slowness. You can’t go any faster than you can go. A quietness, a feeling that you are close to the earth, connected to the countless others who have stood and chopped.

And then you are creating something, combining flavors and textures and colors, and the anticipation of the enjoyment to follow, the tastes, the smells, the communal eating. You are chopping and you are bringing forth something of the world. Bringing it to the table. Sharing it at the table. You are chopping and chopping. You are slow.

There’s a sacredness in chopping vegetables.