I have an internal debate that has raged, well, gimped and limped is more like it, for years. My current line of work has given fuel to continue the conversation.
I often work long days. Tuesday, for example, was a thirteen hour day, 7am to 8pm. I prepped for and taught a class, I worked on some lesson plans and additional projects, we had a team meeting. It was a very long day. I actually didn’t mind because I felt very productive. I was complimented by two different people about my training abilities. It was nice to have concrete projects to work on, instead of trying to look busy while not having anything of any importance to do. There was quite the debacle a couple weeks ago involving one of the contracting companies (not mine) and overtimes rates, so as a result, we’ve all be told NO overtime, period. That means watching hours closely.
A thirteen hour Tuesday, plus five hours Monday and seven hours Wednesday means I am already at 25 hours for the week. Friday I’ve got classes all day so ten hours there, leaves five hours for today.
Here’s the internal conflict: After a long Tuesday, a short Wednesday followed. I was home and finished with tasks by 2pm. I wanted to be lazy and read or watch Hell on Wheels or be generally non-productive. Then the RAV (responsible adult voice) in my head says “What? There is a dishwasher to be emptied and clean clothes that need to be moved to the dryer. You haven’t walked the dog in two days. What about those hobby projects you always want to work on. And the . . . .” This is all true. Some of those tasks are need to’s, some are want to’s, but there are always to do’s.
Invariably I give in and do some chores. By the end of the day, I’m tired and sometimes resentful of not having down time. On the semi-rare day I do lounge around a bit, I feel guilty for not having accomplished one of the ever present To Do tasks that come with living in a big house that needs cleaning and maintenance, with two animals that shed and eat and poo, an wearing clothes and using dishes and the like.
I try to balance all this, tending towards the productive, accomplishing things more often than doing bupkis, but it ain’t easy. Maybe this is why people started drinking. It turns the RAV into a tone only dog can hear and it’s hard to be productive with a hangover. Even harder to think or feel guilty with one.
Possible solution to my dilemma? Drink more!