One take on chronic procrastination might be to redefine our to-do lists to reflect what we're actually likely to do.
Along those lines, I have observed in recent weeks that I am more likely to publish 3 or 4 blog posts per week, than I am to achieve my self-established standard of Monday through Friday, 5 posts a week blogging.
I have therefore decided to relax my blogging rule for the summer, and to aim for 3 to 4 posts each week. This reflects more sensibly the time I have to give, what with two recall elections, one triathlon, and work for a major new web client vying for my energies. It answers my "heart's desire" for a more leisurely pace than the one I've been keeping. And it will instantly improve my rate of success, and transfuse my flagging self-esteem.
I may be, as some have suggested, a bit of a troglodyte. But I savor memories of summertimes past, when life slowed, routines fell away, and there was time to read, to garden, and to play. I am lucky enough to live in a house filled with books, with two well-stocked libraries nearby, just in case. God knows my "garden," in a state of utter neglect, needs me. And one of my favorite people in the world is three years old, and treasures his "long-Nana-days."
I trust the world will survive with one or two less bulletins a week from me, for the next couple of months.
Along those lines, I have observed in recent weeks that I am more likely to publish 3 or 4 blog posts per week, than I am to achieve my self-established standard of Monday through Friday, 5 posts a week blogging.
I have therefore decided to relax my blogging rule for the summer, and to aim for 3 to 4 posts each week. This reflects more sensibly the time I have to give, what with two recall elections, one triathlon, and work for a major new web client vying for my energies. It answers my "heart's desire" for a more leisurely pace than the one I've been keeping. And it will instantly improve my rate of success, and transfuse my flagging self-esteem.
I may be, as some have suggested, a bit of a troglodyte. But I savor memories of summertimes past, when life slowed, routines fell away, and there was time to read, to garden, and to play. I am lucky enough to live in a house filled with books, with two well-stocked libraries nearby, just in case. God knows my "garden," in a state of utter neglect, needs me. And one of my favorite people in the world is three years old, and treasures his "long-Nana-days."
I trust the world will survive with one or two less bulletins a week from me, for the next couple of months.
No comments:
Post a Comment