These days, I feel like time management is both my biggest strength and my most hideous weakness.
I’m both horrible at saying no and completely overbooked, so my list of to-dos and wants and needs seems to rise out of my Google calendar like a Jenga tower on its last legs.
The pieces: cute baby, energetic six-year-old, very helpful hubby, full-time job, freelance work (writing and editing), demanding level of fitness (running is very important to my sanity), the need to be a good friend/family member/citizen, and, oh yeah, that activity of my heart: writing.
One wrong move and it will all come crashing down.
But, as I say, I know how to handle this.
My normal workday is a measure in precision and exhaustion:
I get up at 4:15 in the morning to get in my cardio; spend that time typing up scenes on my phone (I’ve written 60K of this WIP on my phone first before entering it in the document); get ready; take the baby to daycare and make my hour-long commute; work eight hours and maybe do some writing or editing at lunch; come home and either entertain the kids while the hubby makes dinner or vice versa; nurse the baby to sleep; read Harry Potter with the big kid before bed; try to have an adult conversation of my than five words with my husband; pass out at 9 o’clock.
It all works.
Except when it doesn’t.
Sometimes, there are weekends like this one. Where I seem to make mistakes…or at least questionable judgement calls when it comes to my very little amount of free time.
What I should’ve spent the weekend doing: Adding to my main WIP Word doc the 12,000 words I have in the notes function of my phone that have yet to have been transferred. Yes, I know I could just cut and paste out of my Notes app, but I like to revise as I go. Saves me time later. Really.
What I did instead: Ran with friends; took the kids to the farmers’ market; did yoga; lifted weights; went on a walks with the family; worked in the garden; fell up the stairs and possibly broke my toe (it’s seriously purple today); surprised my hubby with Father’s Day tickets to a baseball game that meant I’d have to put the kids to bed solo for a night.
I did a single paragraph’s worth of work the whole weekend. I also neglected to write this blog until Monday morning.
Are those mistakes? Yes. Were they worth it? Yes.
It’s mistakes like these that make me realize I can’t do everything all the time. It’s completely impossible. I want to do too much and won’t take laziness for an answer. Though, I do realize that sometimes this means I drop the ball on other things. I don’t comment on all I should (sorry, ladies), I don’t remember everyone’s birthdays (even if Facebook tells me), and I don’t read as many CP and beta manuscripts as I used to (because I often don’t have time).
Here’s hoping we all make the same sorts of mistakes and remember to live.