I win.
Not a presidential election, unfortunately. (Or fortunately! Who would want that job?)
I’m not talking about electoral college votes but consecutive days of blog posts. 270 consecutive days! Three-quarters of a year!
Cake!
I look back, and I wonder how I did it.
I look forward, and I wonder what comes next.
Today, however, I wonder will I make my quota?
One post in front of the other. That’s how it’s done. There are no shortcuts.
If your goal is 30 minutes of exercise a day, you can’t achieve it in 25 minutes.
It’s an interesting point. And something I will remember in future goal-setting endeavors. A goal based on churning out some regular quantity isn’t subject to streamlining. I mean, you can shave minutes off a distance goal. All you can do with a time goal is add distance to it. It still takes the same amount of time.
I foresee a review of my monster To Do List to see which projects are open to efficiency improvements and which just take the time they take. I suspect the latter would be good candidates for outsourcing. You know, if I had a staff—or the money to pay them.
I wonder how such a review would turn out. I think I’ve already gotten things down to where I’m as efficient as I can be—but maybe not. Maybe there are a few more hours for mumblety-peg.*
I also wonder if that really loud sighing noise my air compressor makes is okay, but that’s probably a whole other topic. It does seem to be working very hard on this cold, cold morning, though.
That’s one thing outsourced to technology, however.
I don’t have to cut firewood.
Instead, I can sit here in moderate warmth, plotting my 271st blog entry and wondering when the heater can take a rest.
* mumblety-peg = whatever you want to do. (It comes from Cheaper by the Dozen, by Frank B. Gilbreth, Jr. and Ernestine Gilbreth—a wonderful book about their family life with Frank B. Gilbreth, Sr., a pioneer of motion study. )
Someone once asked Dad: “But what do you want to save time for? What are you going to do with it?”
“For work, if you love that best,” said Dad. “For education, for beauty, for art, for pleasure.” He looked over the top of his pince-nez. “For mumblety-peg, if that’s where your heart lies.”
