For most of my life, I’ve delighted in productivity hacks. How to squeeze more into a day – I loved finding bits of hidden time, tucked away in interstitial spaces to do more. Listen to Spanish podcasts while walking the dog, going to pharmacology class in the middle of the workday, doing a small one-minute task while waiting for my lunch to warm up in the microwave, getting up early to run or to quilt (while listening to the Daily at the same time). I could transition quickly from one task to another. These things do not interest me anymore. When I hear the news, I just want to eat food that Jeremy has cooked, do just enough paperwork the keep the ship I call my life from grinding to a complete halt in the Suez Canal, to hug and laugh with my loved ones, to go with friends on long walks, feel the sun on my face, watch pointless youtube videos. My transitions are so slow now – the time between getting up from my desk at work to starting my daily run – which usually, I can clock in at under 10 minutes, meandered into 35 minutes today – to where? I’m not sure. Just rearranging a bathroom shelf or looking for a favorite pair of running shorts or wandering into Jeremy’s office to chat? Most days, I feel like a toddler, needing two hours to get ready for bed. I want to enjoy a mid-day nap. Today I dreamt of watching all the TV on HBOmax.
The list of things to do remains long. I rewrite the list every morning and I add to it all the time.