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Saturday, April 30, 2016

Busytown.

I'm suddenly starting a new job next month.  Same field, different library system, all good things, etc.  Still, it means a shift in morning commutes, a lot of uncertainty about what that'll look like.  Someone (on Twitter maybe?) said something the other day about morning rituals, and how they try to eat breakfast sitting down, and at this point in my life I truly can't even imagine.  Of course, I could try and make the time.  But at the expense of, well, sleep.

I tried waking up early to write.  I realized I do my best writing in the morning, but particularly when my job involves routine Saturdays, this left just one day a week for good morning writing.  So I thought, OK, I'll solve this problem by waking up an hour earlier and basking in the pre-dawn quiet, except it turns out, I do not have the mental resolve to do that when it's dark out and I stayed up late reading (late meaning 10:00 -- I know my limits).

I hate the cult of busy.  I hate it.  I hate saying how busy I am, because I know there's time I waste, somewhere.  I don't want to sign my kid up for lessons or anything, because it's just one more thing to tack onto the to-do list, and I already push myself on projects a lot.  What am I going to do when she's in school and wants to be in the play or something?  What gets sacrificed on the altar of sleep, the altar of school plays, the altar of just 1500 more words?

I don't have a solution.  I forge on, working on projects (3 ongoing at the moment, a couple percolating, but now I feel like I'm Busy Cult Conversation-ing again) and trying to go to the gym twice a week and be home and present when I need to be.

I hate when I see those memes that remind me that "You have the same amount of time in the day as Beyoncé" because sure in theory, but not in practice, because I'm pretty sure Beyoncé can pay other people to do the time-suck things in her life, as is her right, because by god she's a queen.  It's just a fundamentally ridiculous comparison.  Person A with access to help has the same amount of hours in the day as Person B, but a vastly superior range of options for how to use that time.  I know this has been said better by other people, so I'm just echoing better writers here.  But still.  Every time I see it, I feel BAD, like I'm not doing ENOUGH with my time, and then simultaneously mad that I feel mad, because I shouldn't feel mad.  I think I should feel proud of my output.

All that said, I've asked for a hammock for Mother's Day.

Priorities.

4 comments:

  1. Dude. Do not count this short, short interval during which you have a toddler when you survey your entire life and how productive you've been. You have a pass. You're allowed to do absolutely nothing but survive. If you *happen* to get any darn thing extra accomplished, then you deserve a statue erected of yourself in the center of town. P.S. You are an amazing boss goddess who also deserves to have servants for your servants, and I wish I were a fairy godmother so I could grant that for you!

    Also I've noticed that no matter how early I set my alarm, it's like Morella just *knows* I needed to get up early to get something done, and has a preternatural ability to wake up exactly when I'm trying to get started with it. And all is foiled. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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    1. You are the sweetest. Your Leslie Knope-like encouragement is literally the best. Everyone should be so lucky to have a Tess.

      Toddlers know. THEY KNOOOOOW. I'll wake up early and suddenly hear Winnie singing to herself in her room, and I'll be like, HOW IS THAT SO CUTE GO BACK TO SLEEEEEEEEEP CHILD.

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  2. Yeah - I'd be very interested to know how big Beyoncé's "team" is. And yes of course good for her, but not an accurate measuring stick either. I really wish I had more time for my kid. I wish I didn't spend the time I have with him feeling pulled in so many directions. I can't help feeling that he deserves more from me, and I could be enjoying him more myself as well. But work and clients and money and THE PLAGUE. xxoo

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    1. Yaas, time -- that elusive thing that seems to dry up like mist sometimes. And it's like, work is important, there's no denying that. But oh, to have a few more hours that aren't immediately carved up like a holiday ham, you know? <3

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