Just Rewards

A box of ice cream with a spoon in it sitting on top of a computer.

I am eating ice cream for lunch. Out of the carton. There wasn’t a full pint left, and I’m going to eat it all.

It’s cardamom-vanilla. It’s super creamy and mostly vanilla-y, except for a small warm sharpness from the spice. It’s from the pop-up ice cream store. The pop-up is run by pirates. I call them pirates because they hang black tarps over the dairy coolers in the back and sell their own brand of ice cream on Sundays when the dairy that owns that space are at church. I guess it’s okay to take rent on the Lord’s Day.

I am pre-rewarding myself for completing a task that I have been putting off completing for the past two weeks. This makes my pre-reward a bit more than brazen. It’s alot of work to do and has a hard deadline which is fast approaching, so fast that it will (too?) soon be in my rearview mirror.

Actually, while I said that I have put off the completion, I really haven’t started it yet.

This is sadly what I do. I have been counseling Baby Bear on his application of these patterns. We know we cause ourselves stress, and yet we watch ourselves perform the same choreography ad nauseam. I’m old. I don’t know that I can do it another way.

So, I am eating ice cream and writing a blog post. Now I’m thinking that I could take a walk and clear my head. I pick up my charged phone in case there’s Pokémon on my route.

Might just be another long night.

Orange Crush

Carrots. Baby carrots. Right size. Right color. WRONG!

It was so ridiculous. I ate a pretty big, and fairly late, breakfast this morning. I figured it would take me through the rest of the day. I was wrong.

It didn’t start until maybe 12:10 p.m. I was clicking through from Twitter when I was violently accosted by an awakening of sorts. Call it an urge, if you will. But by any name the results were the same. I suddenly and completely craved Cheetos®.

I immediately discarded this ridiculous thought. I checked my satiation scale. I wasn’t hungry. I returned to my computer screen. Only to be interrupted, again.

CHEETOS®! It was like I was the teenager that just had sex in the horror movie, and it was my turn to be lured out–to certain death–by the monster. It was just that dooming.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Not having it. In addition to not being hungry, if I had a bag at my desk, opened it and ate some, the orange Cheeto® dust would get on my keyboard. I wasn’t going to get started on that path. No Cheetos® everywhere. No Cheetos® anywhere.

I started back to work and my mind wandered to Baby Bear playing U-6 soccer. Some parents (okay, most) didn’t follow the guidelines requiring orange slices and water for games. They didn’t get that it was replenishment versus treats. So they’d bring salty snack bags and juice boxes. Bear would pick a bag of Doritos so I wouldn’t eat them. I hate Doritos. But he’d bring a bag of Cheetos® to me on the sideline so I would be happy. Stop! Out damn thought!

I pummeled the thought of salty-fatty-messy snack out of my thinking brain. But I couldn’t beat it out of my lizard brain. The part of me that imagined my chameleon-like tongue snapping a  Cheeto® out of the bag. Yeah. That. Couldn’t stop. Can I eat it now?

NO! I turned back to answering an email, still fighting through my consuming desire. I needed to check the possible dates for a meeting against my calendar. I switched between calendar and email and lost my place. Cheetos® were calling me, like a moth to the flame.

I looked at the clock. It was now 1:40 p.m., and I had been thinking about Cheetos® for 90 minutes. Literally thinking of nothing but Cheetos® for ninety minutes. Solid.

I grabbed my key fob and my wallet. I walked down the stairs to the lobby and turned into the little bodega. I knew that this wasn’t going to end until I ended it.

And, I did. Totally ridiculous.

Cheetos. Not carrots!
Cheetos. Not carrots. 

The Last Top 12 Habits of Successful People Post You’ll Read

The number 1 and the number 2 painted on two boards, but put next to each other so it looks like 12.

Are you like me? Wait. Maybe don’t answer that. Let’s try a different tack. 

Let me ask you if you, too,  are exasperated and exhausted by  reading laundry list after laundry list of what “successful” people do to become that way? Are you tired, too, of hearing about their certain and specific traits or techniques that, if applied, would make the rest of us bums successful, too? Lather, rinse and repeat?

Frankly, I don’t know who I want to punch in the neck more–the authors of these self-esteem busting screeds, or me, for reading this crap and thereby encouraging them via my stupid clicks.

So, in honor of reading the absolute last one of these trash posts that I will ever read (believe me on this, I already excised any list that says, “Number 4 will surprise you!” so this is easy), I’m  sharing my version. And, yes, I’m prepared for you to try and punch me in the throat, since that only seems fair.

Fast Company published a list of Twelve Habits of the Most Productive People. It’s the one that sent me over the edge. I’m re-writing the how-to-accomplish in the realest way I know. This is for those of us who are NOT the most productive, no matter how many listicles we read. Oh, and by the way, for you smarty pants productivity freaks, I have a set of choice words for you–unless you were just born that way and don’t really try. In those cases, no flies on you.

My take on the last list of productivity “hacks” we’ll never need.

So what do productive people do?

  1. Fast Company says: They [in which there is an equations where they = productive people] focus on what matters. Productive people focus on what matters.
    DocThink Says: For example, don’t read bullshit posts with lists about productivity. They don’t matter.
  2. FC list says: They [productive people] know the difference between urgent and important.
    Doc says: Urgent is someone else’s emergency that is bogarting on your important binge watch of Master of None. The important thing is will Dev’s mom ever learn her marks.
  3. FC: They plan their days.
    Doc: Like wake up, drink coffee, do stuff throughout the day, eat, brush your teeth, go to bed. This pretty much works for me everyday. I don’t even need to check the list anymore.
  4. FC: They know where to find what they need when they need it.
    Doc: Actually, I’d argue that you’re more productive if you just learn to do without. Except coffee. But I know where that is. Always.
  5. FC: They have set routines.
    Doc: Now really. This list is getting redundant. See #3 above.
  6. FC: They salvage wasted time.
    Doc: Ten minutes before your next meeting? Don’t waste time. Instead start something that makes you late to the next meeting. Waste the other folks’ in the meeting time instead.
  7. FC: They only attend meetings with a purpose.
    Doc: That would be happy hour. Can we start at 4 p.m.?
  8. FC: They do the things they don’t want to do.
    Doc: This one is about procrastinating. I’ll get back to it later
  9. FC: They aren’t perfectionists.
    Doc: That’s easy for me. I don’t believe in perfection.
  10. FC: They leave gaps in their schedule.
    Doc: I call my gap Day Drinking. Now that the weather is good, we can do it outside. Reference to #7 above.
  11. FC: They multi-task wisely.
    Doc: Like resetting the Netflix password while popping corn and having your SO get you a drink. Seriously, 3 things at once. Is there a Season 2 coming for Master of None?
  12. FC: They quit strategically.
    Doc: Like now. Done. #dropsmic

First Word Struggle

Tearing down the green drapes to make a dress.

I did a bunch of writing at work today.

Unsatisfying writing.

It’s writing something that requires a specific straightjacket–I mean format. It’s the reworking of reworked copy.

These drafts have passed through so many, like a hand me down jacket. They’re  misshapen and stretched out around the cuffs. Some of the hands manipulating the draft may have been full of newsprint. Some of the fingertips may have just kneaded dough and are full of flour. Nobody washed before handling. It wasn’t because they didn’t want to, there just wasn’t time.

Now the scrolls have sat for a while. While we finished and published one branch, we ran out of time and deferred the rest. Anyway, it’d be better if we took some time.  The time has been taken. We lost some momentum. So now we might have taken too much time. The words are starting to funk. Or put me in a funk.

I’ve been working on trying to rebuild a rhythm. One like we had for the first round. But holding on to this pile of nouns and verbs, of bullets and hyperlinks-to-be isn’t making it better. It’s making me bitter.

It’s like that mess in the pantry that needs to be cleared out, reshuffled and restocked. Yet it  just feels recycled.

I’ve been fighting with this unsatisfying project for too long. I need to put a pen to it. An end to it.

Instead, I say in my best Katie Scarlett O’Hara, “Fiddle-dee-dee! I’ll think about it tomorrow.”