If you’re not thinking about dying, at least a little bit, this week then you’re probably heavily medicated. I’m not judging. In my case, I’m thinking that here, about half-way through any reasonable actuarial table of my lifespan, it is pretty inexcusable that I don’t have a better plan. I’ve said this all before, of course.
What makes it all so difficult, then? Shouldn’t I be able to lay out a goal, list the steps and get going on it? I should, but it doesn’t really happen that way. Life happens. I went home yesterday with every intention of accomplishing 3 things, clean out a few things from garage, sort my socks and spend some time playing with my kids. None of these required particular skill, daring or persuasion.
I’m happy that the majority of my time went to spending time with the kids. It bothers me, though, that I didn’t finish that list. 3 things. That was it. I listed 3 things, and did 1 of them. I didn’t even do that thing particularly well. We watched tv and played some video games. It was raining out.
Curiously, I think my problem is that I’m not setting my sights high enough. When your immediate goal involves throwing out old socks, how hard is it really to convince yourself that other things are more important. Not very. Not at all.
So, here’s another chance. It’s Friday afternoon, and besides a date to play soccer with my son, my weekend is pretty much my own. So, here goes. By Sunday, I will conquer Europe. Wait, that’s not right. I’m going to need a standing army and the support of the lower middle working class for that. Ok, fine. By Sunday I will chart out my finances and decide if this is the year to apply to UT Austin Technology Commercialization Masters.
Fine, I’ll sort the socks, too.