
Lately I’ve noticed that I’m pretty good about budgeting my money when I shop, but I’m a spendthrift with my time. I wander, I become distracted (oooh, clearance!), I forget things and have to backtrack, and then backtrack again. Before I notice, thirty minutes have passed, and I’m still only half-finished.
I recently had a long list of errands and did not want to spend an entire day completing them, so I decided to apply The Pomodoro Technique. (Read my previous Pomodoro posts here and here.) My goal was to spend twenty-five minutes or less at every stop. Those of you with smart phones can no doubt avail yourselves of any number of fun timer apps, but my phone is pretty basic (think: Flintstones), so it served as my clock only.
In what amounted to a shop-it-off aerobic workout, I completed seven errands in less than three hours. Considering that two of my stops were at the biggest time-sucking black holes in my life (Target and Sam’s Club), I think I did pretty well—though the manic gleam in my eyes no doubt alarmed everyone who crossed my path .
So, you may ask, why does time management—whether it’s the Pomodoro or Cricket McRae's hourglass—matter to a stay-at-home mom/writer who, in theory, should have time to spare? In my perfect world, it wouldn’t matter. Every activity would require the exact amount of time I wished to spend on it. No child would come down with strep throat or need to make a clay sculpture of an eastern lowland gorilla before school the next day. Dogs would be incapable of vomiting. There would be no Dr. Phil. (That’s right, I said it.) Yes, that world would certainly afford me more time to write. I’d just have less to write about.
Time is tricky for me because it is both fixed and subjective. It flows steadily (sometimes relentlessly) along in a predictable, measurable fashion, but it also rushes, it eddies, it stagnates. Frankly, I doubt I’ll ever truly master the art of time management. But even if I can’t manage time, I can respect it, so that whenever—through dumb luck or careful planning—I have a few extra minutes at my disposal, I won’t dispose of them. I’ll put my butt in the chair, and I’ll write.
What are your time-stealers, and how do you combat them?
I recently had a long list of errands and did not want to spend an entire day completing them, so I decided to apply The Pomodoro Technique. (Read my previous Pomodoro posts here and here.) My goal was to spend twenty-five minutes or less at every stop. Those of you with smart phones can no doubt avail yourselves of any number of fun timer apps, but my phone is pretty basic (think: Flintstones), so it served as my clock only.
In what amounted to a shop-it-off aerobic workout, I completed seven errands in less than three hours. Considering that two of my stops were at the biggest time-sucking black holes in my life (Target and Sam’s Club), I think I did pretty well—though the manic gleam in my eyes no doubt alarmed everyone who crossed my path .
So, you may ask, why does time management—whether it’s the Pomodoro or Cricket McRae's hourglass—matter to a stay-at-home mom/writer who, in theory, should have time to spare? In my perfect world, it wouldn’t matter. Every activity would require the exact amount of time I wished to spend on it. No child would come down with strep throat or need to make a clay sculpture of an eastern lowland gorilla before school the next day. Dogs would be incapable of vomiting. There would be no Dr. Phil. (That’s right, I said it.) Yes, that world would certainly afford me more time to write. I’d just have less to write about.
Time is tricky for me because it is both fixed and subjective. It flows steadily (sometimes relentlessly) along in a predictable, measurable fashion, but it also rushes, it eddies, it stagnates. Frankly, I doubt I’ll ever truly master the art of time management. But even if I can’t manage time, I can respect it, so that whenever—through dumb luck or careful planning—I have a few extra minutes at my disposal, I won’t dispose of them. I’ll put my butt in the chair, and I’ll write.
What are your time-stealers, and how do you combat them?















