Me and Work

Last weekend, I did an experiment about working first, then playing later. It worked in the sense that I got lots done (and needed to). It also confirmed for me that my internal rhythm does not suit that particular saying. I worked the entire weekend and did not actually get any "play" because of several factors:
- If I am "on a roll" and getting somewhere on my neverending to-do list, I won't stop because of some arbitrary stopping point. This is why I work late during the week and why I rarely go into work early. My most productive time is in the afternoon, so it's hard for me to stop working during that time.
- I have a strong habit of needing to "finish" a task before I stop. This often manifests as needing to finish the chapter or a scene before putting a good book down, finishing a knitting row or sequence before putting knitting down, finishing a task at work before stopping for the day, etc.
This, paired with my morning attention patterns:
- I'm often late for work because I get distracted and start emptying the dishwasher (which, of course has to be finished before I leave), reading an article in a magazine, taking out the trash, etc.
- The above distraction at work as well makes it difficult to get a lot accomplished in the morning. I'm checking my email, catching up on what I missed online at the end of the day before, etc. (I rarely get online in the evenings anymore. It really screws with my bedtime.)

The conclusion is, I'm not going to feel guilty anymore that I play first and work later. Life is too short to fight your inner nature, and as long as I get stuff accomplished sometime and it doesn't negatively affect others, who cares when I get it done?


A Case for a Hermitage

1. When you are a hermit, no one comes to your house, so they don't see the cat hair on the couch or the drips of spaghetti sauce on the stove top or the crumbs on the counter and think "TSK. Doesn't she ever tidy this place?"

2. When you are a hermit, you don't see anyone, so they don't look at your clothes and your hair and think "TSK. There's a stain on the collar of his shirt. And his hair is much too long. Would it kill him to get a haircut?"

3. When you are a hermit, you don't interact with anyone, so you don't have to be afraid of accidentally offending someone or hurting someone's feelings, as if you were some sort of lumbering cave troll who backs into someone's favorite heirloom vase and sends it tumbling to its doom.

4. When you are a hermit, you don't tell anyone what you do, so you can spend your time as you really honestly like. If you feel gardening that day, you can spend the whole day covered in dirt. If you feel like sitting in the sun reading a book, you can do that without someone thinking, "What a lazy bum. Doesn't she know there is grass to be mown, weeds to be pulled, leaves to be raked and plants to be watered?"

When you are a hermit, you are insulated from judgment. Sure, the people in the town 40 miles away, where you go to get supplies think, "Strange old duck. Half the marbles have rolled away," but they only think that on the day you go into town, every 3 months or so. And the rest of the time, you're free to be yourself.