I have too much to do. At the end of every day, I collapse into bed with a list of things left undone churning through my head. It’s hard to pray, hard to sleep without this list intruding. It’s even worse since I’ve had children, and my list of important things to do rattles around in my brain all day before I can even check off one item after the creatures are asleep. I’ve tried to explain the panic this induces to my husband: imagine that you went to your office and your boss came in and started piling urgent tasks on your desk, any one of which would take a day’s work to complete, then she tied your hands behind your back, unplugged your phone and computer, dumped your files on the floor for good measure, and said “ok, get to work.”
But this sense of too much to do, it seems to me, is pervasive–everyone feels too busy, out of control. We buy calendars and PDAs and Franklin Planners, hoping that somehow, writing down the oppressive lists of things to do, places to go, people who need us will somehow untie that knot of dread in our stomachs. As far as I can tell, these talismans are useless–they may push the panic out into the edges of our consciousness, but they don’t meaningfully reduce the conflict between ambition and time.
I wonder what we are to learn from this conflict. After all, if we are truly eternal creatures, the pressure of time will eventually cease. And yet it is such a dominant feature of our earthly lives that I can’t imagine we aren’t supposed to take some lesson from it into the eternities with us.
I wonder…
September 18, 2004 at 8:05 pm
“ould be possible to be a decent human being and not have a PhD!”
You’re kidding!!
September 17, 2004 at 8:32 pm
D.,
I have a spare room at my house and a really long list of things for you to do. First would be figuring out what that nasty smell in the guest room is. I suspect one of my sweet babies peed under the bed. Come on over and join the fun!
No . . . in a way I sympathize. I have so much to do, but none of it feels important or interesting. Make cupcakes, clean toilets, wash bottles. It’s busy, but it still boring. And trying to bring meaning to it (this is for my kids) doesn’t always help.
September 18, 2004 at 7:00 am
Hm. Kristine, I think I have felt like that a lot of nights. Generally I agree with Julie, though, that anything impossible gets crossed off the list. And one of the things that is impossible is: getting everything on the list done!
This sounds a bit simple, but are some of the things on the “must do” list things that can be shifted to the “would be nice to do” list? From what I’ve gathered, Kristine, the way you live your life registers comfortably in the “supererogatory” range.
When I was facing my PhD candidacy exam (oral), about a month before I became more or less petrified. I had been studying for months, and I knew I knew some things, but I really didn’t know if I was on track. I’d never had an exam like this one. With no clear sense of what kind of preparation would be enough, I found it impossible to relax. Of course, not having taken an exam like that one, no amount of preparation would have been enough for me to feel confident I was prepared — there was no way for me to know! This anxiety began to make it difficult to study effectively, so I really had to confront my feelings. Then I remembered that it would be possible to be a decent human being and not have a PhD! I realized that passing orals is supererogatory! I’m a volunteer in academia. Suddenly I could approach orals as a welcome challenge again. Aren’t you a volunteer in a lot of your aspirations?
September 18, 2004 at 3:27 pm
How much of your to-do list is housework? Any of it? Much of it? I have gained a great deal of inner peace by doing Flylady (www.flylady.net). It’s kind of hokey, but it’s really helped me feel a sense of control.
I have nothing but time, being out of work and with just one little one who’s in school now, but there was so much to do that I was paralyzed. Now, there are still problems with some spaces in the house (I’ve yet to exert my will to keep the family room neat), but my kitchen is always clean, the bedrooms are always pleasant, and we always have clean underwear. And I have a lot more time to goof off on the ‘net.
September 17, 2004 at 7:30 pm
I don’t have enough to do, right now. I understand why rich people might take drugs, just to alleviate the boredom.
Today, I’m finishing up my setting of the Articles of Faith.
September 17, 2004 at 5:31 pm
I tried to be a Type A personality and to plan everything I was going to do everyday. It didn’t really work for me.
I still have the PDA and I sometimes even use it. But the PDA seems to actually just exist as a reminder that I need to remember my appointments.
I like the feeling of having an eternity to get things done. That kind of perspective of eternity makes me feel like I’m on a beach, looking at a beautiful blue sky and really nothing to worry about. Things will sort themselves out in time. Right?
For now though, I have to get back to work.
September 18, 2004 at 12:26 pm
Just spend lots of time with your kids and be kind to your husband. Try to stuff in a few things that you feel are personally rewarding.
Everything else, you’ll find, doesn’t really matter.
In the end, the only people who really care about you are your family members. Why try to impress everybody else?
September 18, 2004 at 1:00 am
Kristine–
This may be smarmier than you can handle, but it worked for me:
I was reading a book called _Never Done_ which is a history of housework and the author quoted one of those terrifically amusing 19th century housekeeping manuals. The book said that in figuring out what to do in a day (“one’s duty”), one should have a mental list and then remove from that list anything that was impossible (given time, money, energy, etc.) to get done. By definition, if it is impossible, it isn’t your duty.
I liked this, in its quaintness.
I really like it, now extremely pregnancy and operating at about 60% of physical energy and 70% of mental energy.
September 20, 2004 at 6:54 am
Yeah, it’s hilarious! In my story the pretentiousness of having outrageous expectations of yourself becomes transparent. But do you have to be talking about a PhD for one’s expectations of oneself to be pretentious? I think the principle applies rather widely.
Kristine, do you feel satisfaction in the things that you do accomplish?