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Good…Tuesday…morning. I’m all kinds of confused today since we had yesterday off as a holiday. Like, last night we went over to some friends’ for dinner and when we got home I was all Awesome! Iron Chef time! and really it was Bachelor time and before I could turn the channel really quick I saw Pilot Boy and Nutso Crazy Girl on a one-on-one date and I squealed and turn the TV off before anything else was revealed to me. (That part’s not entirely true, but I didn’t want this post to turn into some Bachelor spoiler thing. Blech.)

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed your weekend. Mine was part slug, part do-stuff. Meaning I laid around from after-work Friday until Monday morning, accomplishing one half of a load of laundry and THAT IS IT. Sunday night I looked at myself in the mirror and was like, Whoa. Is divorce court open on Sunday night? That’s where we’re headed when BB gets a load of this. But then yesterday morning I popped out of bed, washed my hair (doesn’t washing your hair do wonders for self-esteem?) and headed out for a day of brunch, errands, and accomplishing shit.

What’s the point of all this? Ah, I remember now.

A while back my therapist suggested that I keep a small notebook of Daily Accomplishments. One thing I’ve discovered in my countless therapy sessions is that, among my many other faults, I belittle things I have done or accomplished on a regular basis. I also am the QUEEN of self-deprecating comments, which I’m pretty sure starts to get annoying after a while. So my therapist thought if I wrote down 3 things – any 3 big, small or in-between – I accomplished at the end of the day, I’d sleep better and have a little more faith in myself.

Like any newly-started habit, I did it for about three or four days and quit. And I found myself yesterday making the derogatory comments about myself again, belittling things I’ve done or that I’m secretly proud of, and I remembered the little notebook. When I got in bed last night, I looked at it again, sitting there innocently on my bedside table and briefly considered writing a few things down in it before I drifted off into red-wine Enya land. (Those were last night’s sleep aids.) Instead, I thought of three things, committed them to memory and settled down to breathe in Lucy fur for the rest of the night.

Hindsight being what it is, I should have written those things down. I sort of remember the thought process this morning, but I don’t remember exactly what I was proud of last night. Yes, I went to Wal-Mart and didn’t have to escape and managed to distract myself from what Wal-Mart actually is. And I went to a crowded restaurant and sat by myself at a table for a few minutes while I waited for a friend. And I installed a thingy to hold my ironing board and iron. See what I mean? These are little, very little, things. But if we take stock of our days, clear the cobwebs out of our brain and think about it, little things are things to be celebrated.

Even if I did rot in my pajamas for 48 hours.