It feels like my sense of time is pretty twisted. I’m an OK judge when it comes to estimating how long a task might take me, or how long it will take me to get from Point A to Point B, but I can totally get sucked into a project and look up, hours later, convinced maybe a half hour has passed. Then there’s days when I’m looking at the clock every two minutes.
Today was something new. I got a ton of things done, and yet the day still dragged. Usually, when I work weekends, I start at 7:30 or 8 a.m., and then can’t figure out how it’s suddenly 3 p.m., because I’ve been buzzing between events all day. If the minute hand is dragging, it’s usually because I’ve either nothing to do, or I’m putting off something I don’t want to do.
Today, I got pretty much everything done that I needed to, with minimal procrastinating, I had time to take a lunch break and run some errands, and I was delayed at an event — and the day still felt like it was dragging.
I have lots of little things to look forward to — dinner plans tonight and next week, a couple more plans with friends throughout the week, a day trip to Edmonton next week, some after-work activities that most would probably find tedious but I’m kind of excited for, and one big change that I’ll talk about later — but it’s not like those things are big enough to make my day drag this badly, and yet still give me enough time to get things done in a reasonable manner.
I don’t get it.
However, come back to me next week, and I’m sure I’ll be wishing that the hours were dragging, if only to give myself a sense that I had a little bit more time to get everything done that I need to have done by that point.