Itís the middle of summer. The weather is perfect, and Iím not being particularly stressed out by work. The yard is pretty much under control, as much as it will ever be. Why, then, do I have the midwinter blues? And why do I think anyone wants to hear about it?
Some things my mood has nothing to do with: It has nothing to do with the way the Giants have gone into the tank this season (although a win now and then wouldnít hurt). It has nothing to do with money (although it might have a little to do with the fact that I keep forgetting to pay my household bills on time and keep getting nickel-and-dimed with service charges and late fees). It has nothing to do with family problems (that I know about; if there are things I donít know about, it would probably make it worse).
Hereís my theory, and itís two-pronged (although both prongs come out of the same pitchfork): Sleep. I always need more, and circumstances seem to work against getting more. And time. I need more time to get everything done, and the fact that thereís so much to do in so little time weighs heavily on my mind (and keeps me awake at night).
Thereís an obvious solution here, isnít there? Take some items off my to-do list (the want-to side of the list, not the have-to side). That leaves more time for the other things to get done, and as an added bonus more time for sleep. Itís a matter of prioritizing, which is something Iíve never been good at. At all. Back in the olden days I used to ask the Boss (oh, youíre not going to believe this, but I swear itís true) to go through the papers on my desk at the end of the day and put them in the order he thought I should attack them the next morning. Sad, but true.