Sunday might have been my most productive day ever.
I ran 13.1 miles. I gorged on all of the free food at the Flying Pig finish line. I enjoyed a morning view of the lovely Ohio River. I tried a new lunch spot with a new friend. I watched a National Geographic documentary. I took a nap. I went to Home Depot. I bought gardening supplies and plants. I created a virtual verdant paradise full of lush plants and herbs on my outdoor patio (watch out, Hanging Gardens of Babylon. I’m coming for you). I went out to dinner with my husband. I went to bed before 10:30 pm.
Did I just become an adult?
Not to brag, but I mean … I have a planter box full of mint on my porch. I’m kind of a big deal.
I think I’m in shock because my normal Sunday routine looks a whole lot more like this: Wake up at 9:00 am. Pretend I’m still asleep until 10:00 am. Watch soccer on the couch until approximately noon. Eat breakfast and/or lunch? Maybe get dressed. Maybe. Putz around the house/neighborhood for a few hours. Eat. Watch TV. Google some shit. Go to bed.
You know how they say that you will use as much time as you are given to complete something? If you’re assigned a task and you only have twenty minutes to finish it, you make it work. But if you have two hours to do the same assignment, you will take the full two hours. I feel like I’ve been treating my weekends like that. I haven’t put deadlines on tasks or even fun activities I want to do, so I lollygag and take two hours to do something I could easily do in twenty minutes. Before you know it, the day is over and I still haven’t changed out of my sweatpants. Then I feel bad for wasting one of my precious days off.
That wasn’t an option on Sunday. I had already financially committed to waking up at 5:00 am (which is the only way you’re ever going to get me out of bed that early). The wheels were set in motion, and I simply had to hop on and be swept away into productivity land.
I had already committed to meet someone for lunch, so inertia did its job and I showed up. I spontaneously bought some herbs at a plant sale (another moment when I felt like a card-carrying member of adulthood) on Saturday, and had to buy soil for them unless I wanted my fledgling rosemary to die. Thus the Home Depot run. I already had reservations for dinner, and cancelling would have been even more effort than showing up (or so it seemed at the time).
Commitments kept me going all day long.
I’ve decided that this is the key to my future productivity. If I want to get off the couch, I need to know that if I don’t do something, A) I’m going to lose money; B) Someone or something is going to die; or C) I will be breaking plans, a major pet peeve of mine.
Maybe I should be able to be a real life human being without such drastic consequences, but until such acts of productivity become a habit (or I discover the secret to boundless motivation), this will have to do.
Looks like I’m going to have to start betting on whether or not I’ll do my laundry before the end of the month … who wants in?
Photo (Flickr CC) by Matt Biddulph