I like to pretend I no longer have to actively manage my time.
Struggling with non-motivation and fatigue must be a thing of the past. There has to be a way to avoid working on something I really don’t want to work on when I’m so tired I want nothing else than to sleep for a hundred years—or draw something instead.
And I keep telling myself I need to be better at time management, but I’ve yet to actually do so.
This week, I’m not even sure how I finished any homework. I have spent the majority of my industrious hours engaged in editing/retyping my book, having burned through 66 pages this week. Some nondescript chunk of time was spent on homework, and the rest was spent in miscellany—most of which I imagine was lost to procrastination.
It’s so hard to really concentrate on anything other than relationships and my creative pursuits. Especially as I’m so close to finishing this book, it’s mostly all I want to work on. I’m making good headway on the sixth draft, and afterward, I’ll be sending it out for another round of peer review, and after a couple more revisions following that, I’ll be sharpening up my pitch. Soon I’ll actually be working on publication. It’s really hard to believe.
And childhood dreams are more important than presentations about sponges, right?
I don’t know. It’s at least a lot more important to me.
But completing my degree is still a high priority. I can’t lose sight of it. I’m not even all that busy with classes, comparatively. I deliberately crafted my schedule to make room for editing/publishing my book and preparation for art school in a year.
And all of this planning and hoping and inward screaming is so real, so vivid. I make all these plans, but I can’t predict anything. Life is so fragile. It actually freaks me out quite a bit. Then I go procrastinating and spending much of my time avoiding things that really don’t take me all that much time to complete.
Each moment I waste is a moment I can’t get back. And I don’t like to think of that.
But there is a line, a balance. Between using every moment to the best of my ability, but also recognizing that I’m human. I have a finite amount of time on this earth, and whether I like it or not, a great deal of it will be spent in maintenance—resting, cleaning, staring off into space…
And while I still cringe at how much time I won’t spend working on my creative pursuits, I must trust God enough to be ok with that.
But I can at least try to cut down on the number of times I check tumblr per day.
Odonata 