My blogging friend, John Anthony James, wrote recently that he’d just completed the fourth draft of his manuscript, “The King Amongst the Shadows”.
I almost died of shock. Who in their right mind would fiddle around with a manuscript that many times? Surely I’d rather burn it than become a slave to it? Who’d have the patience for that?
A crazy man?
It was about a week later, I realised that I’d planned on calling the second draft of my manuscript, The Bronze Edition, the third draft, The Silver, and the fourth draft (yes, I said fourth) the Gold Edition.
It was about a week later, I realised that I’d planned on calling the second draft of my manuscript, The Bronze Edition, the third draft, The Silver, and the fourth draft (yes, I said fourth) the Gold Edition.
This is what I do you see, I regularly fool myself into thinking any daunting task I have to do, is not really what it is. I give it another name so I don’t think I’m doing it. I like to break things down into steps too, so that the tedious task I’m currently doing, doesn’t seem like what I’m actually doing.
For example, yesterday, I knew I had to wash Willy, my silky terrier. He was so filthy he looked like he’d been rolling around in volcanic ash. He looked like something you’d see in a museum in Pompeii and I knew it was going to be a most unpleasant task, possibly inviting a nasty bite which may or may not require a tetanus shot.
For example, yesterday, I knew I had to wash Willy, my silky terrier. He was so filthy he looked like he’d been rolling around in volcanic ash. He looked like something you’d see in a museum in Pompeii and I knew it was going to be a most unpleasant task, possibly inviting a nasty bite which may or may not require a tetanus shot.
Willy |
So I filled the tub in the laundry with hot, soapy water and made myself a cup of coffee, relaxed and pretended I was going to leave it at that. After ten minutes, when the sound of running water was a distant memory in Willy’s mind, I walked out casually to where the matted dog sprawled, sun-baking on the concrete and swooped down on the unwitting creature before he had a chance to bolt.
I swiftly carried him into the laundry before he had time to blink and plonked him in the tub so that only his head appeared above the rapidly browning bubbles. I let him soak for a bit while his eyes adjusted to the dim light, then pulled out the plug and doused him with a surprise bucket of rinsing water. Before he’d had time to catch his breath, he found himself back outside, wrapped in a fluffy towel with his toenails painted.
It was more of an alien abduction/kidnapping than a bath really, only there were no anal probes.
When I have to vacuum, I tell myself I’m not really going to vacuum; I’m just getting the vacuum cleaner out of the spider infested cupboard under the stairs. After I’ve done that, I send a few tweets or answer an email and when enough time is passed, I eventually pull that annoying, twisted cord out of its hole and plug it in.
When I have to vacuum, I tell myself I’m not really going to vacuum; I’m just getting the vacuum cleaner out of the spider infested cupboard under the stairs. After I’ve done that, I send a few tweets or answer an email and when enough time is passed, I eventually pull that annoying, twisted cord out of its hole and plug it in.
I might then wipe the kitchen counter down and file my nails before actually switching it on and giving the kitchen a good going over. Once I’ve done the kitchen, I’ll bring a few things in from the clothes line and check the mail. Bit by bit, the entire bottom floor is vacuumed but somehow I’ve tricked myself into thinking I’m not really doing it.
Getting out of bed and going to work can be challenging so I tell myself I’m not really going to work, I’m just getting a coffee to take back to bed.
Getting out of bed and going to work can be challenging so I tell myself I’m not really going to work, I’m just getting a coffee to take back to bed.
As I’m driving to work I imagine that once I’m there I’m just going turn around and go home again. When I’m in the classroom, I tell myself that at morning tea I’m going to feign illness and go home.
By lunch time, the day is almost over so I make a promise to myself I’ll be taking a sick day off tomorrow and surely I can get through one more hour. I do this right through until Friday when it’s the weekend. On Sunday night, I begin the entire ridiculous charade over again.
Cooking dinner; I get the saucepans out then I sit with a glass of wine and watch the local news. After that I might pour some oil into the saucepan and take the meat and vegetables out of the fridge. I’ll go back and watch more television. Later, I might cut something up and chuck it in the saucepan. I’ll meander in and out, sipping wine and watching the telly. In my mind, I’m not really cooking; I’m cruising in the kitchen and having a nice time.
It doesn’t always work of course. Sometimes, silly and gullible as I am, I can’t even fool myself.
What's your favourite life hack?
Linking up with Jess from Essentially Jess for #IBOT