feedback
The stack of morning books, to be read in ten-page increments, or as time allows.
The burden of personal weakness, heavier than a weighted blanket holding me in bed when I slept in (until nearly seven), was lifted when I recalled that I did not, for the nonce, intend to track the use of my day in fifteen-minute increments. I had done so for a week last February and recently edited a paper that discussed using the activity to teach time management, which led me to try again (the spreadsheet was already set up, so why not?). It is a tactic that should be used sparingly. A little structure, a little feedback of the acute sort – detailed and gimlet-eyed – can be helpful; when taken to extremes, or pursued past the point of utility, it becomes a trap, a cage, a burden. In short, it palls.
The temptation to build structure into the day remains strong, however. So I keep my stack of morning books (as shown) and my stack of evening books and my list of all the little thing that I would like to get done but don’t really care about, and I work through them little by little. Then it is time for a nap, which is especially pleasant on a warm summer day, but looks fairly dismal when tracked on a spreadsheet.