How Do You Get So Little Done in a Day?

Every so often, that elusive day arrives when the stars align and I have a legitimately and completely free day and I think, this is terrific. I   am going to be so productive. The world is my oyster.  But then somehow or other, it is evening again and I have gotten, like, one tenth of the things accomplished that I had set out to do. How on earth does the day fly by so fast?

I have a theory: 

5:30 Hit snooze alarm. Repeat.

5:40 Resolve to get up the next time alarm goes off.

5:58 Rouse from deep slumber to receive goodbye kiss from wife who is about to leave for work. Hit snooze.

6:00 Ignore whimpering dog who has just woken up and is afraid she is all alone and has been forgotten about.

6:08 Celebrate cat’s highly unusual desire to cuddle in the bed and purr and be cute, never mind her poor timing. Resolve to get up in one minute.

6:09: Must. Not. Disturb. The. Kitty.

6:10 Remind self when you accidentally annoy the kitty and she jumps off bed in a huff that she was already disturbed and has been for ages. Do not give in to her guilt tactics.

6:20 Get dressed, go downstairs and feed dog and cat. Reward productivity with cup of coffee.

6:40 Let dog out.

6:40:47 Let dog in.

6:50 Let dog, who has frightened herself by pushing the trash can over with her nose, back out.

6:58 Resolve you will be at your computer and writing by 7:00.

7:00 Pour second cup of coffee. Amend productivity time to 7:30. Justify decision to surf internet instead of working by convincing self that web is hotbed of inspiration.

7:30 Stare blankly at screen.

 

7:56 Begin writing.

8:30 Delete everything. Rewrite.

9:00 Decide it’s a perfect time to walk the dog. Search for shoes.

9:10 Locate shoes. Repeat search for hat, coat, and leash.

9:30 Begin approximately half hour walk with dog.

9:40 Lose dog to taunting squirrel.

10:00 Locate dog. Resume walk.

10:15 Wait for dog to finish inspecting same canine urine hotspot she has smelled every day for the past two months.

10:20 Finish half hour walk with dog. Return to computer.

10:30 En route, notice dirty on counter, table and in sink. Observe overflowing dish rack. Lock eyes upon crumby counter. Feel motivation, joy for life, ebb.

10:30-11:30 Daydream about writing while you clean the kitchen. Savor the anticipation of reward. Clean the living room while you’re at it. Enjoy the martyrdom. Stupid Puritan.

11:30 Reward cleaning spree with lunch. Read a chapter or two from one of many novels you are currently reading. Justify decision as inspirational motivation.

12:00 Compare own writing unfavorably to beloved author’s.

12:05 Put dirty dishes in sink. Sit back down at computer. Stare at current writing, which now seems like drivel after masterful author’s piece read at lunch.

1:00 Wonder why fingers stop typing. Realize they’re blue. Recall turning off thermostat last week in fit of thriftiness.

1:05 build fire in wood stove.

1:15 Air out house until smoke alarms turn off. Shoo frightened dog outside. Ignore kitty’s reproachful look from hunkered spot under chair.

1:30 Return to desk.

1:31 Let dog, who has begun to bash at door, in.

1:55 Remember your fire, now dying in woodstove. Stab desperately with poker.

2:15 Achieve small flame. Rejoice.

2:17 Blow on flame, accidentally extinguishing it. Despair.

2:18 Let dog, who is keenly attuned to your despair and has become utterly unhinged, out.

2:30 Coax dog, who is currently clawing door to splinters but hesitates to come back inside because faint odor of smoke persists, back in.

2:40 Come upon her covertly munching kitty’s food. Scold.

2:45 Trip over cat who is on her way over to mow down dog’s food. Give up and return to woodstove.

2:50 Achieve fire.

2:55 Collect wood from woodpile. Repeat twice.

3:00 Regain balance after dog, frightened by wood being brought indoors, bolts out.

3:10 To pre-empt door bashing, invite dog back in. Repeat in higher tones when met with baleful look. Check frustration at simpering and feigned confusion. Return reproachful squints.  Hold door open. Demand. Cajole. Beg. Plead.

3:13 Watch as strictly indoor cat charges out between legs and through open door.

3:15 Calmly approach cat. Resist anger when she dilates her pupils and gallops in a serpentine fashion all around the yard.

3:45. Ignore yowls of indignation and extended claws when carrying her back inside. Unstick from sweater. Return to desk.

3:50 Write.

4:20 Reward productivity with Facebook break.

4:30 Sink into depression with realization that friends’ status updates prove own life is utterly unaccomplished, meaningless, and futile.

4:35 Under lens of depression fueled self-doubt, open minimized word window with story on it. Re-read. Delete.

4:45 Over consoling cup of tea, ruminate on story unfolding on radio. Listen to analysis and commentators discuss in depth. Make sudden and insightful connection between piece and your story. Charge back to computer.

4:50 Write. Get lost in the piece. Marvel at how good it feels. Rebuke self for not buckling down earlier.

5:30 Hear door open and wife walk in. Psychologically connect wife’s arrival home with end of the working day. Feel all motivation flood out of you.

5:35 Cuddle on couch with wife and relate accomplishments of your day. 

Can't you see I'm hard at work?