Laura Vanderkam is running another time-tracking challenge, and I am playing along. There are always surprising snippets when I do.
It felt like a packed workday, but I really only spent 7 hours working. I got in at 7:30 and taught almost all morning. I only have one spreadsheet cell with research tasks in it, because I spent almost all afternoon working on more teaching-related tasks.
When I write down the amount of time I get to spend doing what I want, those numbers usually surprise me as well. I had more than an hour to myself before any kids were awake, so I had plenty of time to pray the Office and journal and read the Bible before I launched into figure-out-the-day and where-does-all-this-dumb-email-come-from-anyway? mode. My calendar and email and task lists were under control before any children were out of bed. The cost of this peaceful window is waking up at 5, but this is easier now that I've penetrated the mystery of the coffeemaker's timer.
I've been doing a sensible thing to shut down my whirling brain after my intense teaching blocks: I walk over to the student fitness center and hop in the pool. I was only in the water for a smidge more than 30 minutes, but the swim (along with the rosary, which is my favorite brain-calmer-downer and also my lap-counting tool) quiets the "and-and-and-don't-forget!" voice in my head.
Stella and I are reading My Father's Dragon, thanks to a comment on the first sidewalks post, and I am binding off the Metronome I've been showing you on Wednesdays. We spent a pleasurable 45 minutes on the couch together this evening reading about Elmer Elevator's adventures while I inched along on the border and bind-off. Elwood cooked our tortilla soup while I did the soccer practice run, and I took 15 minutes to read a magazine and knit while he was getting food on the table. It felt awfully luxurious, like I should really be folding laundry instead. (It is not my day to fold the laundry. I should have reminded the boy on laundry duty that he was on laundry duty at some point this afternoon, but oh well.)
It's easy to feel harried and overwhelmed during the semester, but it's not the whole story. Since, however, my alarm is going off in 8 hours and 10 minutes, I am not going to attempt to tell any other parts of the story.