I swear there’s only so much time in a week. I’m certain that it can be quantitatively assessed. I’m also fairly certain that I need to sleep for a decent portion of it in order to function and not be thoroughly miserable. Another ridiculously large portion is spent working and commuting to work. That’s a known fact, everyone is aware of it at some level.
But then there’s only so much time left. And at some point, one wishes to relax. Go outside, read a book, play a game… Things that members of our species find relaxing and enjoyable. I would be happy some days just to lie on the floor and pet the cat. I don’t ask for much.
I have a bazillion projects. Is bazillion really a word? Wikipedia has it under the category “Indefinite and fictitious large numbers” so I guess not, but I imagine we all know what it means. I have to assume some things in order to communicate. I know a bazillion is larger than a zillion, though I don’t know how much larger. I want to assume it’s considerably larger.
Anyway, that’s how much I have to do. Going to work is like a relief. I have one or two projects at work, with very definite boundaries and expectations. I get a lunch break. Nice, quiet, relaxed. How many people can say that they enjoy work? Anyone, who like me, has a bazillion projects to do outside of work.
Ever notice how the more projects you have the less you want to work on any of them? Doing the laundry suddenly becomes attractive – it’s less effort than deciding which of 4 websites I should to work on. Washing dishes becomes meditative and calming – it’s better than trying to draw 4 comics to post over the next 2 weeks. Cleaning the cat box seems like a relief compared to trying to code mutilated CSS for IE 6.
I feel like I get a lot done when the apartment is clean and organized. Even if I haven’t touched any of my real projects.
And after all of those is the couple of things I want to do for myself… work on my portfolio – draw, just for myself, so maybe someday I can go apply to a school and get my Masters… But even that seems like so much effort after everything else. Like there’s no hope I’ll ever do it, because by the time I’ve managed to do any one project to completion, I have no energy, and there’s another 2 projects set to begin in it’s place. It’s oddly exponential. If I had the time, I bet I could come up with a pretty solid theorem. Except that I was always fairly terrible at higher math.
Maybe someday I’ll actually be able to get back to the surface for a breath. I can’t say I really feel like I’m drowning, but I think I may just be in denial. Cause I know I’m not breathing.