Ugh, vacation’s over. I’m back to work tomorrow.
Why is it that time spent at work feels so much longer than time spent…well, doing pretty much anything else?
I’ve always promised myself I wouldn’t post much about DayJob, having read the horror stories of people fired for same, but suffice it to say I am not looking forward to going back. That bit’s no secret.
My solution to stay sane: I’m reading 168 Hours: You Have More Time Than You Think and really thinking about ways I can still feel like my creative self while I’m going about my day. I’m not far into the book, but already I’m seeing all kinds of small ways I can get more done.
I bought a new charger for my dead netbook, so step one will be committing to writing at lunch. Tried before, didn’t stick with it, but I’ve reevaluated my priorities and I’m ready to give it another go. Besides, I’ll never get anywhere unless I really push myself.
Step two is nerding it up by self-designing new scheduling inserts for my Filofax. It seems I can’t find any that suit me, and I think I need to visually see where my time is going in order to use it better.
There’s got to be some way to get there.
Confession: I have not written nearly as much lately as I should.
I have a four-year fold out calendar in my Filofax meant to track and chart my daily writing output. This should have been a blog post with a photo of how I’ve set that up, but let’s face it: my output lately has been abysmal, and I don’t want you to see it.
I’ve been busy, sure. It feels like I’ve been running from one thing to the next for weeks. Part of it was working the Dreaded Morning Shift, wherein I start work at six and become human around noon. Part of it was crafty little things that (enjoyably) ate up my time. I have new ideas for new stories churning out of my head all the time but…I haven’t actually gotten anywhere with them.
I think I’m stuck, a little, on where I’m taking this series of stories. I knew where I wanted to go when I started, but the author of those plans feels like a different person. I tell myself it will take a lot more time to write a novel-length work. Of course it will. But I’ve been missing that high of publishing a new short every couple of weeks. Instead I’ve passed the honeymoon phase of this bigger project without readying myself for the long-term.
It sucks. It’s a bitch to have so many things pulling at the hem of my skirt and (what seems like) no time to get them all done. If I want to give my BIG PLAN a chance to succeed, I really need to work out a firm schedule for writing. Not just when I feel I’ve got time, because clearly nothing gets done that way.
I’ll be pulling out my well thumbed (but never finished) copy of Getting Things Done tonight. And I’m thinking about using a 24-hour timetable in my planner. Something’s gotta give if this thing is going to go anywhere.
Writers: when do you write?
I was sitting here, frustrated with how the story is going (or not going), and I got a notification on Facebook.
My dear ladyfriend LP sent me this:
…completely unbidden, not knowing how cranky I was. That’s what an awesome friend does. An awesome friend just knows.
It’s been printed, and now one copy hangs in my office and one copy is the front page of my Filofax.
I’ve said it before: how badly do you want it?
Stationery nerds, your attention please: I have obtained the Holy Grail.
My Filofax Malden is here.
With all the time-management I’ve been attempting, I’m hoping this is The Answer. Mine and C’s work schedules, story notes, publication planning…I even bought a four-year-at-a-glance calendar to track my word counts. I’ve always been best with tactile information.
Plus, I’m a big fan of “permanent” things. Smart phones are nice; I have one and (mostly) love it. But if you get a big ol’ scratch on your cell phone, that could be the end of it. Five years from now your cell phone will be embarrassingly obsolete. I wanted something that will only gain character over time. Something made to last. I’m thinking this bad boy will see me through the next decade, at least, and I love the idea of seeing it age and change right along with me.
No rebooting, no charging. Room to doodle. The pleasing smell of leather. The ability to reorganize everything whenever life changes.
I am a very, very content little nerdling right now.