I've never been particularly good at finishing things. Unless someone offers me treats, one for each hand.
I have sort of the "get rich quick" mentality, but with actions. The faster I can get something done, the better. The shortcut, hell yes-step on it! If the project seems endless, I'd rather not even start, so that I don't give myself an aneurysm, or end up feeling like a failure and resort to binge eating Little Debbie cakes in an attempt to "stuff my feelings" of self loathing. Or something equally dramatic and superfluous. If the project doesn't have an end date, or an outcome that it's in my favor, I'd rather put it off. The problem is, half of what I DO doesn't have an end, a start, a timeline or a predictable conclusion.
So when I come home and my entire house looks like an episode of Hoarders, I'd rather sleep in my car than begin the never ending project, that has somehow caused our inheritance of a little mouse....which, for all you people that say "Aw, Stuart" I'd like you to understand that I'd rather have a snake chase me around my home, EVERYDAY, for the rest of my life with venom dripping off of it's teeth.....than have a mouse.... OR, have a tarantula take a swan dive at my face. Those two things would be better, than a fucking mouse.
....I digress. Let me finish my thought since this is after all about FINISHING (anyone thinking sexual thoughts yet? No? just me?). The point is;
If it makes me even the slightest bit uncomfortable, I JUST WON'T FINISH IT.
And when not finishing isn't an option, I throw a tantrum. Or I find a loophole. Since I'm all crafty and determined. Our home is in shambles, there's drapes hanging from strange places, there's furniture balanced like a game of Jenga all over our living room, we have a colony of little people living in our walls (I'll let you decide which of those things is true- the little people thing is totally a possibility; they steal socks and trip people, and live in walls)........so, I sit. I sit and I stare at all the things falling apart and that require nails, measuring tape, more money, or heavy lifting and I think....we're doomed. Totally. fucking. doomed.
But it isn't just my house.....and that's what really bothers me. It isn't just the "things." If the things were all that needed finishing, I'd work around it. You hire people for that shit. loophole, holllla.
The things that I need to finish are the things that MATTER the most to me. They often get the least amount of attention, because I've busied myself with a million other things, or back episodes of Bad Girls Club and coffee dates mid-workday to avoid facing the fear of finishing and failing. Or finishing and realizing that the responsibility of doing GREAT, or not doing anything at all, all falls on my shoulders. All I need are those few extra strides to get there. Having to admit fault to ourselves for not having the things we want is a hard pill to swallow. Or a hard small-sharp-jagged-object-covered in cayenne pepper to swallow.
In the homestretch when everything is just a decision short of being DONE, is when I putter out. It's almost like that burden that weighs you down has become part of the costume, it's easier to keep it, than feel naked without it.
The songs that are half-written, the to-do list of things that could, if achieved, meld the balance between the dream and the reality. The Christmas cards (send me your address if you want one! I'll only show up on your doorstep if there's free booze and cable) the thank you notes, the package sitting by the door ready to send, but without a stamp. The budget plan, the PLAN at all. It isn't the initiative that I lack, or the drive- or even the belief for that matter, but the CLOSE. The touchdown. The home run....and all those other sighs of relief and triumph.
Today, I'm going to FINISH what I START. Even if it's a painfully awkward conversation that I initiate with the checkout girl wearing reindeer antlers. I'm going to wrap up the ends....make them a pretty little bow of holiday cheer and GET 'ER DONE.
What do you need to FINISH?