Sunday, May 05, 2013


I get up before I have to.  I shower and shave.  I talk to God.  I eat my breakfast.  I kiss my wife.  I get in my car and drive 30 miles to my job.  It only takes 45 minutes and I feel good about it.

I've been awake for 1 hours and 45 minutes of my 16 waking hours and I know the clock is ticking.

16 - 1.75 = 14.25 hours remaining

It's 7:30 AM and my desk is as full as my e-mail.  The understanding of what I think I'm supposed to be doing, my manager thinks I'm supposed to be doing, the CEO thinks I'm supposed to be doing and the customer thinks I'm supposed to be doing are four different things.  My current responsibilities change five times. I finally get it figured out, but it's lunch time.  4 1/2 hours have passed.

14.25 - 4.5 = 9.75 remaining

I go off the clock for lunch for 15 minutes of which I really only take 9 to ingest the lunch I brought but there's no time to linger.  The company can have those last 6 minutes for free.  I've got a deadline that was just changed from tomorrow to today and if I want to go home at a decent hour, lunch stops now.

9.75 - 0.25 = 9.5 remaining

5 hours later I've wrapped up the emergency project after spending 3 3/4 hours at the computer, 1 hour arguing and collaborating about the direction of the project and 15 minutes talking to the guy in the next desk about that story in the news.  It's 5:15 PM and I'm going home.

9.5 - 5 = 4.5 remaining

Or at least I thought I was going home.  I needed to run to the store really quick to pick up that one necessary item for dinner.  There was a wreck on I-5 and it cost me some extra time.  What would be a 1/2-hour drive in the middle of the night costs me 1 1/2 hours.

4.5 - 1.5 = 3 remaining

The kids haven't seen their daddy all day and they want to jog laps around the living room.  15 minutes of sprinting later, my wife lets me know that dinner is ready and we all sit down, thank God for what we have and eat.  Actually I'm the only one that eats.  The kids don't really like what was prepared, so my wife spends the rest of the meal time running back and forth to the kitchen trying to solve the problem.  My daughter settles for peanut butter and jelly.  My son settles for nothing.  The episode only lasts 1/2 hour.

3 - 0.75 = 2.25 remaining

The kids want to do more laps until their mother finally convinces them it's time for bed.  The typical mourning occurs along with teeth brushing, stories and prayers.  We close their bedroom doors 45 minutes later thanking God we got through it, but then feel regretful inside for not wanting to spend more time with them.

2.25 - 0.75 = 1.5 remaining

It's 8:15 and I know it.  Everything else that I need to do or want to do must happen in these 90 minutes.  The math doesn't lie and the clocking is ticking.  As soon as I recover from the shock, I look up to see how much time I have left.  Guess what?

1.5 - 1.5 = 0 hours remaining

It's time to go to bed so I can start a similar story tomorrow.


The reason I write this is not to throw you into depression.  It's not to complain, though I've definitely done too much of that, as well.

The reason I'm writing this is so you don't feel like you're the only one.  Because everyone I talk to tells me almost the exact same story as what you read above.  They probably don't break down all the math like that, but still their story is the same.  By the time they get done with what they have to do, they don't feel like they can get to what they want to do.  Or even what they ought to do.

You're not the only one with intentions that take longer than 24 hours allow.  You're not the only one who feels guilty for not getting it all done.  You're not the only one who thinks that somehow--if they were just a little better--they could make it work.

Everyone goes through it.  Or at least everyone who's trying.

Pray for strength.  Grasp at wisdom.  Make use of your 90 minutes and the 14 1/2 hours before them.

Another week is about to begin.

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