About skimming

Skimming. To skim. Like, just read a few pages of a book here and there. Or, to lightly take the skin off some kind of boiled liquid, with a light touch. Skimming the surface. Skim (light) milk. Skim boasrding.
Some days, some weeks, are so busy, so full of stuff, that I adopt a similar technique for getting through them: I skim.
I suppose that will be anathema to some of the "embrace the moment" ilk, you know, live fully in the moment, in the now, I bet Oprah would be appalled.
But then, we do what we must to get by.
How do you skim though a week of your life? Well, quit thinking. At least about all the stuff you have to do. Write it down. And then as it gets done, cross it off, one thing by one thing.
Do think about something that you like, or that makes you happy, or made you happy in the past. Feel free to be as superficial as necessary. If thinking about lying on the beach doing nothing except feeling the sand under your hands make you happy, think about it. If thinking about shopping,or planning outfits, or anticipating some future wonderfulness takes your brain away from the busyness at hand, think away. (For guys:think about good games?)
Indulge just a little--sleep in 10 minutes. Wear your most comfortable outfits. Stop for a latte. Take a bubble bath.
For my plethora of doctor's visits, I put together a little totebag of waiting room necessities. Two magazines, Marie Claire and InStyle. My mp3 player with Michael Buble cued up. Some dark chocolate. Some Sunflower body mist. Some mints.
It worked. I actually had fun waiting for my mammogram.
Well, "fun" is an exaggeration. But I was able to skim over the dread of the squishing.
How about you? what are you skimming over?