Tag: time management

Life lessons

Yesterday, I fell asleep in the late afternoon, and woke up around ten p.m.  I was feeling a bit muzzy, and it seemed too late to cook, so dinner happened by virtue of the fact that a 24-hour restaurant (at least over the weekend) has recently opened up.  So after getting out of the house (which can take a while, when there is no great hurrying deadline) and having dinner, I got home around one a.m., meandered slowly in the general direction of bed, and fell asleep two hours later.

I woke up around ten this morning, and I was feeling fine.  Got up and helped make chowder for the crockpot, made coffee, and sat down in the living room.  There was a little TV, a lot of poking at the computer that didn’t really accomplish much, and a sort of quietly increasing anxiety.  I managed to make dinner anyway, and was just sitting down to it when I looked at my plate and a sudden realization struck me.

This was breakfast.

Food and a lot of water helped the stress and tension, some.  I’m currently tidying up the kitchen (alright, I am taking a break from tidying up the kitchen because everything is handled except waiting for the dishwasher to finish at which point I can cycle the next load through), and being mildly annoyed at myself.  A whole day, drat it.

Things I have learnt: Don’t do this.

Matter of time.

I can’t find my copy of The Feminine Mystique.  This has been on my mind–not overwhelmingly so, but definitely noticeable–every day this week.

See, there’s this one part that mentions a study on the time spent housekeeping; what I remember, loosely, is that when the work was given to another household member, it got finished in half the time.  Sometimes less.  And combined with how quickly I was getting through physical filing when I had to concentrate on it (due to the lack of a computer), and how quickly work seemed to go when I started the job…

I want to reread it.  Right now I have the impression that (1) the household chores are feeling alot more overwhelming than they actually are, and (2) maybe I can get over this if I can change it up somehow.  Maybe the time it’s taking isn’t really the time it takes.

(Maybe I just want to read about someone cleaning an entire house and making lunch and doing groceries and still being done by mid-afternoon.)

Long weekend coming up.  I’ve gotten a lot of work done, and some of it’s stuff that isn’t even necessary, it’s in the “I said I would” category.  But it sems there’s been very little time for what I want to do, or that when I’ve done it I haven’t gotten any lasting enjoyment out of it.

Know this kind of thing comes and goes.  Just really don’t care to sit back and wait for it to go if there’s something I can change to make it go, preferably sooner rather than later.

Helps a little to articulate this, at least.

Excuses to not write

So!  I ended up hearing from my friend; we got about 1300 words written, actually.  But I haven’t gotten anything else written, and it’s starting to… not worry me, exactly.  Make me wonder if I’m avoiding it.  Because writing with her, it’s fun and it’s engaging and I get what Stephen King (well, Paul Sheldon) calls the gotta; I gotta keep reading, I gotta keep writing, I gotta get more of this done.  And this is a really good feeling, don’t get me wrong.

Just beginning to wonder if I’m paying so much attention to writing this way because it drowns out the fact that I’m not writing for myself.  Or writing out my own ideas, rather.  There’s the morgue story, there’s that crime one I was hacking away at (well, plinking away at, really), there’s the mushroom story, there’s the other mushroom story, and none of it is getting done.

(Heh.  Came in to work an hour early.  Half an hour left before I can actually start.  Fiction writing done?  Zilch.)

I get upset when I don’t get things done, and the light of my life occasionally reminds me that it’s okay.  What’s the worst that can happen if I go out and try to write and get distracted?  I don’t write and I read or play video games instead.

I think I might be forgetting that the worst is I don’t write.  Okay, yes, not a tragedy.  But I don’t write, and then another day’s gone by and I’m no closer to finishing anything and closer to not having any more time.

I just wish that was motivational, rather than depressing paralyzing.

Slipping away.

The week started with a post, actually. A post about how, when you were doing one job and learning another and trying to catch up on three days work besides, learning that you might need to tear out a wall of your home was just a cymbal-crash finale to the day.

(As I was writing that post, my bus home drove past me without stopping.)

Then I exited without saving the draft.  So there was no post that day.

Rest of the week was equally packed, and delicately spiced with such highlights as “double work loads” and “four hours of sleep.”  And the lack of posts continued.

Trying to pull myself back together and relax. Saw Boondock Saints II and picked at Fallout 3 a bit; I’m pretty close to finding Harold, I think.

Not getting any writing done. I keep being caught up in thinking about a co-writing project and the person I’m working with… Yeesh, just realized haven’t heard from her in a week. Trying to overcome my natural tendency to fret.

Achey and tired.

I’ve had a headache for about ten hours now.  I mean, I realize I am having this headache on a day when a good friend of mine is having a migraine, and that does a lot to put it in perspective.  But it’s starting to wear on me.

I got a story rejection today.  I was expecting it, and it was very polite.  Still… what can you do?

(ObAnswer: Pick up and carry on.  I know, I know.  Goal for tomorrow: two new pages.)

Watching Game of Thrones and comfortably hating Theon.  I do love the Greyjoys and the Iron Islands; they make me think of King Hagrid, cold and drawn and grey, standing by the sea and watching the waves they rule. Blood and salt and iron.

And the Cthulhu shout-outs don’t hurt either.

Started two new anthologies–End of the World and Haunts: Reliquaries of the Dead–and neither one is really grabbing me yet.  I’m hoping a good night’s sleep will clear things up.  Whether or not the extension goes through tomorrow (and I expect it will; early next week if not), at least there’s only six work-hours left until the weekend.

I’m very sorry.  I wish I could come up with something more interesting to say.

Juggling duties.

Looking forward to the long weekend.  I wouldn’t say my time’s already booked, but I expect I know how most of it is going to go.  Hoping I can get a couple of hours in to sit down and write, and a chance to goof off and relax so I actually feel up to same.

(Running around an alien mothership without your faithful canine companion: totally relaxing.)

I need to reorganize my office again.  My London-and-Mythos shelf needs to become just a Mythos shelf; with the latest anthology, there’s no more room for them both.  Even if I relocate the London stuff, there’s only about another foot of space, but it’ll last for a bit.

Have work for at least a few months, which is nice, since I just found out that Pelgrane is putting out another sourcebook in the vein of The Dead White World. Mind, I’m not sure I would ever actually get to run anything; all the gamers I know aren’t local or wouldn’t be interested.  I wish gaming books were something you could get at the library; it seems like a waste to buy one and then not do anything with it.  They’re not like most books; they’re not just for reading.  More like recipe collections or knitting books.  Buying them and not doing anything with them is sad, and rather cluttered.

Sunday already

Work on Friday was a bit of a long day.  One of the people I worked with last time is thinking she might want my help for summer, so that could be useful.  The hour and a half commute each way is very annoying; John has suggested a few things.  Heading in early, hitting the gym or a coffee shop, and working out or getting writing done.

Both would be nice. Either would be nice, honestly, although I admit I am lacking faith in my carrying through with either.

Reading Sarah Monette makes me hopeful.  Sone of the things she writes are like the kind of things I would like to write.  It is just nice to see that it can be done, although its a leap from there to my being able to do it. The words I got out yesterday are annoying me; I’m trying to work myself up to finishing the damn thing. Maybe I will come across a tone or style that makes sense for it and then I will at least know how to pare down and shape up what I have.

I know what I want it to be about. It is just a near-impossible jump from there to plot, apparently.

Still. Better done than not done? And if I make progress I can celebrate by taking an hour to go find Harold or something. Fallout 3 is not as good as New Vegas, I am finding, but Harold and Dogmeat help a lot.

Inertia

I’ve been thinking for most of the month that I should start posting again. I liked the regular writing, and beyond that, the (admittedly small) amount of structure it imposed.

I’ve been thinking I should start posting again, but as many wise people have said, thinking is not doing.

So here I am writing again. Not really high on content right now, but… Well, the words are all spelt right and assembled correctly, so that’s a start. Onwards.