Not one of my clocks tells the correct time.
As 2020 draws to a close, my thoughts, as always this time of year, drift to productivity. How can next year be better? I ask myself. What new list app, what system of organization, will be the magic potion that launches me, serene and collected, into a productive river of “squirrel-less” days?
Now first of all, you might ask, what is a “squirrel-less” day? Those of you who have Mountain Feist dogs or other squirrel lovers know. My late four footed friend, Elbow, could not resist a squirrel. She would stop short, wherever we were, and dash off at a frenzied pace, nose in the air, in the direction of any that might appear. And this paragraph is also an example of a squirrel, because this post was meant to be about organization.
I have come to a temporary conclusion that some form of time blocking will work best for me, and because I am an artist it must necessarily be in a handwritten notebook. I choose not to catalogue the many hours I have spent downloading various apps, deleting them, trying them out, making schedules, and having long conversations with others about what THEY do. Again as an artist and a creative, and also one who chooses to share this passion with others, I realize that there is no one single way that is best. As there are no two leaves, snowflakes, or blades of grass that are alike, so, too, there are no two human beings.
So back to the clocks. Right now it is 3:35 somewhere and it is 9:35 somewhere. I spent years working an eleven to seven shift at a Stop and Shop supermarket stocking shelves. In that world, seven AM was evening, time to stop for an evening social hour in the downtown establishment. Now, decades later, seven pm is a time to reflect on a productive day. Because in the end, any day that I can touch the life of someone else is, indeed, productive, no matter what time it is.
Carol LeBaron
