HAIRSHIRT
Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery
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HAIRSHIRT Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery |
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Monday, July 17, 2006I'm a Shitty Taskmaster
My mind is not a tidy place. It's easy for me to completely lose track of whatever the hell I'm trying to do and look up four hours later to discover that I have wasted the bulk of my day. Which means that there is a very real danger of my summer vacation slipping through my fingers like so much melted jelly. (I was going to go with "sand" there, but somehow I like melted jelly better. You ever try to keep melted jelly from running right through your fingers? Ain't easy.) Part of the reason I took a job as a teacher is so that I could use the summer months productively and get some writing done, so sitting on my ass for two months solid is not an attractive prospect.
Since we got back from our Independence Day trek to Ohio, I've kept myself on a schedule. It starts early, as my wife has to get up insanely early for work anyway and I like to make her lunch before she goes. I've blocked out time to go to the park with my inadequately-exercised dogs, so that they can run around off-leash. I've nailed down times for me to exercise, as I hope to not be quite so disgustingly flabby come autumn. And I've got big chunks of time dedicated to nothing but writing. I've got specific times to blog, designated sections of the day to work on finishing the third draft of a screenplay I'm working on and even twice-weekly sessions of writing stuff to submit to magazines. I've mostly been doing okay with it. My dogs got plenty of run time last week. I dragged my ass to the gym even more than I'd vowed to. I'm two-thirds of the way through the rewrite. Then I hit today. My poor wife had to get up extra early today, as the car is in the shop and she had to catch a surreally early train to get to work on time, so I was up early, too. (Although I didn't make her lunch, a fact which haunts me still.) I walked the dogs. And then... And then I went back to sleep. I couldn't help it. I was tired. Oh, so very tired. And then, when I got up, I sat around for awhile. Sat around. I went out and did a few errands. Now, I have other stuff I have to get done and what worries me is that, if I deviate from the schedule once, that I might end up deviating from it frequently. What happens then? I wake up and it's August 31st and I have to go back to work and I don't have anything done. You know who I blame for this deviation from my schedule? Bush. Fucking assbag.
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