I like the fact the days are getting longer; it provides more time to work out, or to socialize at the track (or other running venue) after the workout is over. Of course, the more time I spend hanging out and socializing means the less time I have to take care of errands or talk to the dog. I've been shocked to find I have (if I'm lucky) 30 minutes from the time I get home to my (arbitrarily-appointed) bedtime.
Sure, I could stay up later in order to drink another beer with my wife and watch my dog stare at me from the center of the living room floor (I'm lousy at translating greyhound facial expressions into English, so don't ask me what he's trying to say.) but the consequences are tragic. I end up feeling like someone parked a large truck on my body the next morning. If I can get up out of bed (99 times out of 100) I'm sore as hell. That hundredth time is when I beg my wife to bring me the phone so I can call work and let them know I'm not feeling too well.
Monday and Wednesday bedtimes are absolute, now. I made the supreme mistake of getting up at 1:00 in the morning this week in order to hit the bathroom and get something to drink. Of course, once I was up I felt the irresistable urge to try and catch up on some of the e-mail I can't get done earlier in the day.
Bad idea. For me, it takes a solid hour to digest someone's comments and write something that sounds: a) literate, and b) diplomatic. I've shot off notes right from the hip, especially at 1:00 a.m., and succeeded in doing little more than p!$$ing people off. Okay, so they probably deserved it, but then my wife hears from other folks during the following week how much of an @$$ I am.
Another reason it's a bad idea for me to answer e-mails at that hour of the morning is that I end up stealing an hour, and sometimes two, of the eight hours of sleep I absolutely need in order to be able to swim the next morning without falling asleep on my keyboard here at the office. And since I work part-time with my swim coach, he read his courtesy copy while sipping on his first cup of coffee in the morning...he's had his eight hours of sleep. Jerk.
At first, I felt cheated by not being able to answer outside e-mails on my work account, but it's not so bad...I don't get wound up about outside issues until I'm safely home. Now if I could only learn to instill "office hours" on my off-duty time...
2 comments:
It's called "discipline" and when it comes to running, swimming, spinning and sticking to your daily and weekly plans for those 3, you've got more of "it." ;-) * It rubs off on me occasionally.
You're too kind.
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