Look, we’re friends now, and so I’m making a choice. I’m gonna be honest with you. Level with you. Not blow smoke up your ass. Ok. I am just in the worst mood to have to write a blog. I should have anticipated this when I declared, tipsy in the daytime, that I would blog daily. DAILY? Was I MAD? That’s every day! Some days I’m happy and full of life and love and sunlight, and other days I am decidedly not. Some days I just want to sit and stare into space and I have to actively be my own parent.
“No, Kate, you are not allowed that donut. Put it down. It won’t make you feel better, it’ll just make you feel tired. Are you listening to me? Ok, well… you aren’t allowed that SECOND donut. Ok? No? Um… please don’t have three? I’ll tell your father…”
Today is one of those days. In my head I am sitting under a tree somewhere, dozing, a book on my lap. Instead I have to brush my hair and ask people how their day is going and then stand there and listen to their answer.
Thank god for the pomodoro technique. Online, the pomodoro technique is described as a “time management method”, but I consider it more of a “way to trick yourself into being an adult”. The basic gist is that you set yourself tasks that will take 25 minutes. If you have a task that’s an hour, cool, but no, you don’t, you’ve got two 25-minute tasks with a couple of breaks. See how much nicer that sounds?
After you’ve decided how to break down your tasks, you set a timer and get to work. Once the 25 minutes are up you’re allowed five minutes to make a cup of tea, stretch, check your emails, scratch yourself, etcetera. After you’re sufficiently itch-free, the timer dings again, and you start on the next 25 minutes.
If I see the day stretching out for hours with far too much to do and far too little time, I will freeze and get overwhelmed and stare at Facebook while biting my nails fretting about my deadlines. If I think “all I have to do is this cute lil’ 25 minute block of work”, then I will do it.
There is one problem with allowing myself to frame it as a way to “trick” myself, and that’s that sometimes I will also trick myself out of even doing it. Sometimes I pretend not to notice that the five-minute break period is up, or I rewrite the rules mid-pomodoro to allow a super QUICK facebook check (it doesn’t count if you don’t post a comment?) or a bathroom break (how can I be productive if I need a wee?).
This method is a godsend on the days when I feel like a slumpy human sausage. As a child I read this book called The Terrible Wild Grey Hairy Thing which was about a (spoiler alert) forgotten sausage. On some level I think identified with the Thing in question, who sort of looks like a cross between Alf and a scrotum.
This is me today. Slumped. Sausagey. In NO mood. I wanted Cher to yell SNAP OUT OF IT at me to pull me out of my grouchy sour mood. Thank god for the Pomodoro technique, forcing to be to be an adult and face my responsibilities head on. It’s like when –
* ding *
Ooh! Gotta go, time’s up.
Got an itch that needs scratching.