Thursday, June 16, 2011
Usually I work at my desk. I write stuff, move paper around, organize things and generally make myself look important to myself. But yesterday I could not figure out which paper went into which pile.
Coffee was no help. That brain would not apply itself to the meaningless crap I had to prioritize. So I left everything and went outside.
I repotted a plant. I swept the back porch. I chopped up the rosemary that's been taking over the back yard. (Hey! There's a passage around the side of the garage. I'd forgotten.)
At my desk once again, I moved a piece of paper. It didn't seem to be in the right pile.
So I went out for a cup of coffee. I took a note pad. I wrote things on it while I drank my coffee. It was the most work I got done all day.
It felt strange not to be my usual productive self. As most freelancers will tell you, when you work for yourself you work seven days a week, much more than 9 to 5. A day off is an anomaly. But I guess I needed it. It's a good thing my boss wasn't paying attention.