I don’t know how many times I’ve heard this in the past couple of days. Between my boyfriend telling me that I’m not good at it to reading an article about how successful people don’t do it, everything seems to be telling me to stop doing it. Honestly, I don’t need another well-crafted and scientifically proven argument as to why I should stop and why I should immediately.
Truth be told, there are days that I long for when I was younger and I was singularly motivated. Honestly, those deep depressive moods that I used to have where I felt inadequate, always provided me with enough momentum to not only focus on a piece, but keep at it until it was completed. And I kind of want that back. Not the depressive state, but the singular motivation and required isolation that came from it.
I guess my issue is thinking that there aren’t enough hours in the day and feeling guilty about forsaking one task for another. I mean realistically, if my work day was shorter and the actual day itself longer, I’m sure I would have more than enough time to nip all laziness in the bud and be productive all around. Yet, I’ve sold myself on the fact that my eight hour work day, plus the almost hour commute both ways, has reduced the total hours of the day that I have to myself. By the time I get home, I’m so drained, I just want to unwind, but I can’t, because there is my daughter who wants to tell me about her day and who wants me to play with her. There is also my mother calling and asking me to do things. And by the time I get to my boyfriend, I can feel his frustration as I try to keep my eyes open long enough to have a meaningful conversation.
I have always told myself that if I was able to get home a lot sooner after work, that I can unwind for a needed thirty minutes and knock all that exhaustion out. I can then handle mommy duties as they come and deal with my mother’s request. And when my boyfriend sits me down for conversation, not only will I be engaged but I’ll be able to add to it substantially. I’d even find time to write. That novel won’t be nearly as farfetched as it is right now.
But as it stands right now, I try to jam-pack everything into one sitting. Blog posts, pieces, conversations with my boyfriend, actual work, and personal errands, are all things I try to get done while seated at my desk. And naturally when I mess up on one aspect of it, such as not getting a work related task done in a timely fashion, or seeming forgetting about that conversation I was having with my boyfriend, or being abruptly pulled from that piece I was writing to handle actual work, or forgetting to make that really necessary phone call regarding getting a copy of my daughter’s medical, I immediately feel embarrassed and defeated. The happiness and ease that I had begun the day with immediately dissipates and I find myself trying to do overtime to make up for my mistakes. Literally.
I can’t tell you how many times as the final hour of work rolls around, I kick everything in high gear to make up for my inability to properly multitask and attempt to get everything done. It’s ridiculous honestly.
But maybe that’s what my boyfriend and the article was trying to explain, regarding multitasking. Not only does it make it you less productive, but it’s bad for you. It puts way too much pressure on you to do everything all at once without so much as breaking a sweat and it’s near impossible to do.
So I get it. No multitasking.