Two Minute Rule

My smartwatch has a timer, an application not as well thought out by the designers as some of its other features.  It enables one touch application of a countdown from one to six minutes.  It makes the Two Minute Rule easy to implement.

Procrastination has always plagued me.  Eventually I come through, but after endless excuses to postpone.  My daily task list always has something that takes under two minutes.  Swallowing my pills, weighing myself every Monday morning, measuring my blood pressure with an automated cuff, counting the Omer every nightfall between Pesach and Shavuot.  I do them all.  Quick check marks.  Most things take longer.  When I make tomorrow's Daily Task List each nignt, my designation isolates tasks that take less than ten minutes, not two.  Performance on these short items is very uneven, not because I shun them as much as their lower priority.  Big projects, multi-day and multi-week initiatives, take hours, not minutes.  The individual steps may take only minutes, which makes the Two Minute Rule so valuable.

Most psychologists have concluded that once people have passed a certain threshold of activity, typically two minutes, they do not stop that activity.  Knowing that they can end their effort offers some control.  I will do this with some repetitive chores.  How much underwear can I fold in two minutes?  How many coffee cups can I wash?  I certainly could make the endpoint six t-shirts or five coffee cups.  But timing activity to a clock, one that will count down, has the advantage of going to completion.  I can always stop when my smartwatch signals two minutes, knowing I have completed my obligation.  I cannot wash three cups and tell myself I've done five.

In reality, though, people judge us, and we assess ourselves, by how much we accomplish, not how much time we spend working on it.  So real two minute tasks like making a k-cup of coffee have something to show for the brief effort.  Putting on running shoes but not running does not.  Some things you have to intend to perform, not just start.

Exercise on a treadmill and stretching with a YouTube video serve as hybrids.  I've never liked doing either.  It wouldn't occur to me to start for two minutes then decide whether to proceed to completion.  The treadmill has a set distance, typically four or five electronic display laps, and a set speed.  I need to do the program.  Once the laps reach the pre-set conclusion., I look at the machine's timer, then extend to a time-determined landmark.  The stretch takes 8 minutes spread evenly over 16 exercises.  I do not mentally credit myself until the final stretch of the right side of the neck at the video's end.  

My fondness for the kitchen does not adapt well to the Two Minute Rule.  Certainly I can set two place settings or transfer the refrigerated ingredients to the table in that let's start mode, but creating something edible, or even whipping something properly with an electric mixer really takes as much time as required.

Despite the Two Minute Rule's limitations, no worthy efforts can succeed without the first step.  Two Minutes offers that first step, always preferable to not taking that first step.

Appointments Done

Each Sunday morning I enter the week's appointments on a white board magnetized to the refrigerator.  The places I need to be get entered by day on the left in a marker coded to the project.  Along the right column in pale blue appear commitments for ensuing weeks, though rarely more than a month in advance.  Beneath my list, my wife pens hers, in black ink.  The majority of days have something entered.  During the school term, I anticipate OLLI Mon-Thursday every day.  And Whiteboard appears in black letters next to the S for Sunday.

This week, though, one week before resumption of the OLLI semester, I find my appointments stacked early in the week.  Eagles on Sunday, successfully earning the NFC title.  Platelet donation and family birthday on Monday.  Doctor and charitable reception on Tuesday.  Then no entries through the second half of the week.  A rarity.  Even my treadmill sessions suspend for three days at the end of each month.

Things that matter most usually do not have a fixed time to do them.  Expressing myself, tracking my health, sorting out finances, reading, recreation.  Few of these have assigned times on my white board, though some are habitually allocated to certain days.  Weight on Mondays, YouTube creation on Mondays, Shabbos services on Saturdays, Stretching on Mondays and Thursdays, Parsha review on Thursdays, Shabbos dinner on Fridays. These all continue, though without the whiteboard entry.  Just notations on the weekly outline that I create Sunday mornings and on my daily task list.  

What appears on my refrigerator now and for the rest of the week are blocks of minimally interrupted time to engage in the best way.

Priced Beyond Good Will

 

There was a time, probably pre-pandemic, though certainly through the bulk of my final working years, when Sunday morning would begin at a coffee shop.  Brew HaHa dominated, though at times I would vary the location to Einstein's, Starbucks, or Panera, mostly near each other.  My agenda mostly included some quiet time to plan the upcoming week.  I kept a black canvas zippered pouch with my supplies:  colored pens, colored highlighters, my semi-annual projects grid, a pad of 8.5 x 3.25 in paper culled from some fundraisers that send them in the mail, and a cardboard of the same size harvested from the back of a used up pad.  With pouch in my hand, I walked over to the counter to order my brew for the morning.  Typically they came in four varieties:  dark, blonde, flavored, and decaf.  Mostly I ordered dark, though I could be swayed by the morning's flavoring.  When given the option, I preferred a large porcelain mug which I would sip on site.  I put the pouch where I claimed my seat, then took the mug over to the fixings stations.  Half & half most weeks, cinnamon or nutmeg, on occasion brown sugar or cocoa.  Then I returned the ready to drink coffee to the table.  From the pouch I extracted five colored pens of which I had several brands:  black, blue, green, red, and purple.  Then my semi-annual grid, a page of the pad with supporting cardboard, and two highlighters in different colors.  As I nursed the morning's coffee creation, I planned my desired pursuits for the coming week and for that Sunday.

I could make coffee more economically at home, but too many distractions.  The pandemic changed my Sunday mornings indefinitely.  No longer working, I needed less quiet time alone.  I created My Space, designed for me to sit with my thoughts, though with everything I needed, including that pouch, within arm's length.  I had purchased a Keurig Mini-Express, a vast improvement over the Mr. Coffee generic K-cup unit that eventually failed.  I had K-cup varieties of my preference and mesh inserts to fill with my own ground coffee.  I had two workable French presses.  No need to go out for coffee.

My personal habits also changed for the better.  At a specified time two mornings out of three, I walked briskly on a home treadmill.  That time coincided with the times I'd be whiling my Sunday mornings at a coffee shop two weeks of every three.  And having committed to this physical activity on a priority schedule, I felt more energetic.  Some time later, I abandoned my SSRI which also improved my perceived well-being after a transition.  The coffee outing had lost its purpose, maybe even destructive to more important activities.

I didn't stop going to the coffee shops altogether, except for Starbucks, which got more expensive and, more importantly, withdrew my ability to choose my coffee additives myself.  However, weekly planning shifted to Sunday mornings in My Space, followed by a treadmill session if scheduled that day.  Periodically, would still feel a need to sit in a public space, even if tending to myself.  Brew HaHa and Panera still enabled that.  The time would be mid-morning.  In retirement, it need not restrict to Sundays.  Both places offered porcelain mugs, though I preferred Brew HaHa's service at a counter to Panera's self-serve kiosks.  Brew HaHa had another advantage.  Other people I knew also liked to go there.  Every few visits I could update with an old friend, usually a person of mental substance.

The coffee prices inflated, more noticeably as my attendance at the coffee shops declined in frequency.  I have enough money.  And the purpose for going there was never the coffee, which I could make easily at home.  That $3 or so served as temporary space rental, a place at a table for a half hour where I could type on my laptop or jot thoughts onto a paper pad.  I almost never purchased anything to eat, or an overpriced beverage with foam additive.  I rented space for about $3.

Might coffee be price elastic?  Despite my ample funds, might there be a threshold that negates my demand for either the coffee or a seat at the table?   Maybe.  Starbucks got the heave-ho at $3.25, part price, part forcing me to use a disposable cup, partly taking my freedom to customize away.  If it were $2.75 would I tolerate the irritations?  Probably not.  I go there for the experience or for quiet time to type away on my laptop.  I can still write, but with a lesser experience.

Panera kept the price more stable but also changed the experience.  I don't mind the kiosk.  The edibles remain very tempting but those clearly are price elastic.  As much as I like quiche or coffee rolls, the price rises eliminated them from what I order.  Brew HaHa remained the wild card.  For purchase of coffee, maybe at the upper edge, for purchase of an experience still acceptable.  For good reason, when I go there they seem to have more customers than the other places.  Yet each time I walk through their doors, maybe every couple of months, that coffee price rises another 10 cents.  I do not even consider the pastries.  

I did my Sunday planning at home.  Walked on the treadmill with slightly increased intensity and duration.  A reward seemed appropriate.  I drove to Brew HaHa, taking a writing pad with me.  A short line.  While waiting my turn, I looked at their beverage menu.  My size coffee $3.35.  It was $3.10 at my last stop there not very long ago.  I had more than enough cash, but not sufficient need for the experience of customizing my coffee and jotting my thoughts onto the yellow pad I brought with me as I savored a special dark roast that I do not recall having previously.  I guess the coffee and the experience are price elastic.

No Appointments

Almost no appointments today. I have times assigned to myself.  Wake time done.  Dental hygiene done, Treadmill shortly.  None take very long.  The rest of my day remains unscheduled.  Nearly all should do's. Few must do's with none to please somebody else.  Future projects await.  Those need progress, some in small steps today, others in larger accomplishment. Deadlines not imminent.

Today's Daily Task List runs two columns, loosely prioritized.  Some purposeful as components of Semi-Annual Projects, others more recreational.  Segments for work.  Segments for leisure.  Optimism as first cup of coffee nears completion.  Next, treadmill.  Then no more appointments, not even with myself.

Feeble

It's been several cycles since I watched a Presidential debate.  The first of 2024 found its way to my Daily Task List.  I know who will get my vote based on my vision, my sense of what America has stood for at its best, who elevates that and who jeopardizes that.  No preference issue for me at all.  We are all familiar with the options, a decent but doddering man against another more blustery type who did his best to convince us that he will execute the evil necessary to keep the world safe on our behalf.  One frail, the other dependent on misrepresentation reinforced with bluster.  One highly dependent on counsel of wise advisors, the other who takes pride in who he fired.  One looking for consensus, the other identifying vulnerabilities to exploit.  While I look at the two candidates, knowing I must select one, I find myself relating this very binary choice to what I either am like, or wish I were like.

Without getting into a discussion of whether my assets are Gifts from God or whether generated by my own efforts or by my own good fortune, they remain my personal strengths.  Evidence suggests I am smart, respectfully challenging, and inquisitive.  Those were gifts, or inheritances of some type.  I can see though bluster, challenge the dubious as it arises, figure out when I am being Rafshooned, as one of the debaters set as the basis of his presentation.  I self-assess as kind, or at least value kindness even when I fall short.  Deciding when an aim is important enough to engage in a modicum of cruelty has challenged thinkers for millennia.  Hamas seems to think achieving their agenda justifies what they do to bring it about.  So did many more benevolent leaders through history.  Sometimes somebody has to do the things others are unwilling to do.  I do not think separating families at America's Southern Border is one of these things.  Telling people who had pinned their hopes on resettling in America that there are other people ahead of them in line might be.  

One candidate proudly flaunted how many people he had fired for not being up to the task.  The other failed to challenge him on his flawed judgment making so many inept appointments.  We also have a Peter Principle where people get appointed and then promoted until they can no longer function at their assigned level.  Then they stay there.  As the current President essentially laid an egg, in Hollywood lingo, he may be America's most glaring example of what Prof. Peter tried to convey.  He did not seem up to the task, yet having somebody else more capable take over comes with an element of risk, not the least being that the one who follows will be less capable.

There aren't a lot of options.  Maybe revoke the Drivers License from one who shouldn't have it, whether by frailty of one candidate or recklessness of the other.

Faced with no very good options, I default to what has been my core.  Do things that make sense.  Be a trustworthy, honorable person. Seek kindness.  The two men on the screen last night are not equal on these.  There is some safety net to frailty for sure.  However, there exists no an anti-dote to authority with distorted reasoning or character.  I'll cast America's lot with feeble and its safety nets.

Half-Year Concludes

My life, or at least accomplishment focus, runs in six-month cycles.  I plan each half year in December and June, then proceed.  As this cycle reaches its closing days, some reckoning on how I did and what contributed to the inevitable shortfalls has come due.

Closets:  I had wanted to get my storage options more functional.  While I could pay to have a closet fully remodeled professionally, the expense is not worth it for my closing years in my house, to say nothing of my wife's likely objections to the disruption this would entail.  I regret not doing this maybe fifteen years ago.  Instead, I selected a few closets to organize.  I did OK.  My half of my bedroom closet has usable floor space, cleared upper shelves, and removal of clothing that no longer fits.  The three closets in the main bathroom have better utility.  And the two in My Space, while not complete, now accommodate what once defaulted to the floor.  Not a bad outcome for six months of mostly casual effort.

My Space:  This one I had hoped to complete in its entirety, but I did not really give a full effort until done.  There are usable zones.  Loose items have been boxed.  The corner desk has been made functional.  Books under my control have been designated for donation, though not yet brought to their next destination outside my house.  Not a bad result, and done without the help of a professional organizer.

Write Novel Draft: Began with optimism, closed with failure.  I started by searching the web for how to do this, but got absorbed in the technicalities.  I do not have an outline.  I still would like to write a book in my lifetime but find myself more disheartened than I expected to be.  I have a story that should be told, as all people probably do.  Telling mine should be a primary focus of my effort.  Learning how to do that effectively needs some investment of time, commitment, and perhaps money.

Read Three Books:  My most easily filled initiatives.  One must be traditional, e-book, audiobook.  One must be fiction, non-fiction, Jewish theme.  What I found, though, was an unusually high number of started but incomplete reading.  My willingness to abandon what I started may or may not be a good thing.  I like to have Grit, but plodding through what is not worth completing has some very big downsides.

Visit Three New Places:  Did this and then some, though not entirely with intent.  Went on a short vacation to a new town, toured a museum that I've wanted to explore.  I also found myself at two places locally that I had never entered despite living in my home for forty years.  My branch library closed for repairs, diverting me to a different one.  Nice place but smaller.  Also got invited to a reception at a college whose gates I had only passed but whose grounds and buildings I had never entered.  Neither was particularly memorable, as the new town and the museum were, but they were new to me.

Submit Three Articles:  Past rejections took their toll.  I wrote quite a few pieces, all articulate, all likely to be declined, either because the writing wasn't good enough or the publication was not the right destination for what I created.  In either case, I wanted to approach this project in a more rational way and took some steps to do that.  Yet I remained primarily timid, avoiding the anticipation of rejection and the reduction in self-esteem that it brings.  Be Bold appears on my Daily Task List.  Often I am with people or organizations that I've established some element of rapport.  Not Bold with strangers.

Three New Experiences:  It had been my intent to purchase new experiences.  White water rafting perhaps, maybe deep sea fishing.  Drive cross-country.  Have my hair done by a stylist, though I have had that at low level in the past.  Or after years of unsuccessful fishing, maybe catch a fish.  Or play a round of golf.  Instead, I acquired the experiences but backed into each.  My temporary headquarters library wanted me to pick up a reserved book from their drive-up window.  I had never done that before.  I went to a funeral where the surviving spouse arranged for an open casket ceremony.  I won a raffle.  None intended.

Three Guests in My Home:  I hosted three Shabbos dinners as intended.  All synagogue people.  Unfortunately, I also hosted a Shiva house, also synagogue people.

Join Two Organizations:  One came my way, sort of.  The other came from my responsiveness to an inquiry.  I had become vocal about some of the questionable deeds of Congregational Influencers, including a detailed conversation with the new Rabbi on targeted exclusions of people, with some side comments on what I regard as basic laziness.  I've been among those snubbed, though only selectively.  This fiscal year, they offered me a two-year term on their Board, which I accepted.  My other attachment has been the Osher Institute.  They broadcast to their enrollees a list of committees.  I filled out my three preferences, got three responses, two invitations, and selected the most suitable.

Evenings with Wife:  Recapturing, or really sustaining, courtship and early marriage with my wife has challenged me for sure, and likely her.  Since retiring, I retreat to My Space while she watches movies and MSNBC attacks on a former President who deserves many of those attacks.  While our interests diverge, our mutual affection has not.  Yet we are in the same room too infrequently.  I resolved to set aside two evenings a week to be adjacent to each other, touching each other.  I did OK.  Not perfect.  Room for better consistency.  This one's important.  This one's harder than it looks.

Manage IRA Withdrawals:  Hiring a financial advisor about a dozen years back turned out to be a wise decision.  With the help of a new high paying job which I held for the closing eight years of my career, my savings have grown immensely.  I've not touched them since retiring.  Social security for myself and my wife along with her corporate pension annuity provides us more income than we can realistically spend.  American tax law, however, allows us to to grow our income, though not forever.  This year I must begin withdrawing the minimum mandated amounts from my two tax deferred accounts.  It was my intent not to do the withdrawals until the second half of the calendar year but to decide on the process.  As a federal employee early in my career, I accumulated a small account.  By contacting the agency, I was told it could be tapped passively though it is in my interest to request the requisite withdrawal to avoid having them withhold 10% and reconciling with the IRS a year later.  My private account is managed by the financial advisor.  It comes in two components.  One is a list of charitable contributions I want him to disburse to the various tax-exempt agencies.  I do not have to pay personal tax on those withdrawals.  The rest goes to my account.  I have been keeping up with recording my charitable contributions on an Excel Spreadsheet each month, so compiling a list should not be that difficult.  Then after Thanksgiving the rest goes to my joint account, less what Uncle Sam the Croupier skims off the top.

Health Targets:  I did not reach my weight and waist goals.  I did achieve a BP within accepted medical targets.  Due to side effects of rosuvastatin, my PM cholesterol lowering therapy was amended to atorvastatin.  My cholesterol has not yet been measured.  I am waiting until the proximity of my next doctor's assessment, so I do not know if my lipid target has been achieved.  Despite not reaching the data wish list, I have done an admirable job with scheduled exercise, some favorably revised dietary habits, and good adherence to medications as well as medical appointments.  SMART goal as a Process, done.  SMART goal as Performance fell short in some ways, which is why process is often recommended by planning experts.

So mostly I did well this cycle.  Room for improvement as the next cycle approaches.  Some of the initiatives will be extended an additional six months.  Others are better replaced by new challenges.

Day Trips

Took my first of six intended summer day trips.  An easy one, to a museum near Independence Hall.  The Weitzman Museum of American Jewish History offered an extraordinary display, one more than worthy of subsequent visits, which allow more attention to detail.  The summer travel also should include two trips to the beach, one intended next week, and two to NYC by cheap bus from Philadelphia or NJ Transit from Trenton.

This visit offered a learning curve for some of the future outings.  My age allows me a SEPTA Senior Pass, which enables mostly unlimited public transit in the Philadelphia region.  My home is a ten minute drive from the train station.  I did not know about suspension of parking fees until I had already deposited four quarters in the slot with my parking space number.  I had ridden the train multiple times before, never really accomplishing useful work on it.  Instead, the picture windows lure me to a variety of vistas, mostly shabby towns just north or where I get on, more attractive suburban housing in the middle, followed by parts of Philadelphia that could use major cleanup, and ending with the glory of gleaming high rises as central Philadelphia approaches.  I depart at the last stop.  My destination being a little farther than I wanted to walk, and wanting to check out the bus area where I might catch the transportation to NYC, I entered the subway.

I would need to know how long it took from departing the SEPTA train to arriving at the bus station, including waiting for subway.  Getting a subway train in the direction I wanted to go required me to use an overpass.  It took longer for the car to arrive than I expected.  In addition, the one I boarded did not stop at the Spring Garden Station where the buses congregate, so I really do not know how long it would take to get the train that does.  Nor do I have a sense of the safety around that station.  So really cheap bus to NYC may not be the best option.  I got off near my museum destination, which lies a mere block from the subway stop.

Big mistake, not eating breakfast or seeking lunch before entering the museum.  Despite the display's attractiveness, I felt hungry while touring the exhibit.  Because of this, I left an hour earlier than planned, prompted by a need to find some lunch.  I knew Philadelphia's Reading Terminal Market, one of America's grandest food courts, was near the SEPTA station.  I opted to walk in that direction, though really intended to pick up a sandwich a little closer to the museum.  Despite this being the top tourist district of Philadelphia, there were no food trucks like I found parked in a line outside Washington's Smithsonian.  Kosher Deli would be a great treat.  Kosher near me search on my smartphone located it a bit farther than I wanted to go, even by bus, also included with my SEPTA Senior Pass.  I headed back to Center City.  To my surprise, there were very few sandwich places along the six blocks I walked.  Not wanting to go to the Reading Terminal Market, I entered a small bagel place, bought a sandwich that charged more than I expected from the display price, but had a satisfying late lunch followed by a very disappointing donut from one of the city's iconic donut chains.  Then back to SEPTA and home by late afternoon.  Between departure from home and return, I had devoted some six hours, accomplishing little other than visiting my museum destination.

Moreover, once I got home, I felt too exhausted to pursue my Daily Task List.  Treadmill done before I left home.  But household chores, writing, planning, rehearsing an upcoming talk all required more focus than I felt able to provide.  That day trip, two hours in a terrific museum, had basically superseded anything else I might have done that day.  Going to NYC would be more so, though the two hours on the very comfortable motor coach with access to electronics would permit some useful activity en route in each direction.  Still, the reality of the clock is that it will be difficult to arrive in Manhattan before 1PM using my free or discounted public transit, and I would also have to head back.  So maybe four or five hours in NYC and even more time getting there and back.  I may not want to do this a second time if the first trip proves problematic.  To be sure, I will be doing little else of value that day.

I could make the same comment about the beach, though it is offset by other pleasures.  I like driving downstate, even more so when I have my wife with me.  We can leave early, get a hoagie made someplace along the way to eat either at a picnic table or on the sand.  At the end, we can stop somewhere, often for an early dinner.  So it is a real outing.  What I don't get to do are the things that occupy nearly all of my Daily Task Lists.  Still, there is much to support a day dedicated to being with my wife.  The pursuit of my Semi-Annual projects just won't happen that day.

Schedule Struggles

One laudable personal achievement post-pandemic has been the introduction of routines, primarily morning, but really extending much of the day, into the post-supper times.  I have a wake time with few deviations from it.  Sleep time has not established itself quite as well, but close enough to create something of a box of time for my waking hours.  Every day, with some modifications for shabbos and yom tovim, I start with dental care, make coffee which I bring upstairs to My Space, retrieve the newspaper from the end of the driveway for my wife irrespective of weather, wash some dishes, then retreat with my coffee mug to my desk to begin the day.  A blog effort, some crosswords, FB notifications while I sip the first cup, invariably brewed in a Keurig Express machine from pods obtained from a Shop-Rite discount.  Then treadmill if scheduled that day, time dependent on when my OLLI class begins.  On-site at OLLI completes most mornings.

That leaves a mostly unstructured block of time every afternoon, though my personal prime energy time has been the mornings.  Afternoons have very occasional appointments, the time to tackle tasks on my Daily Task List to bring Semi-Annual projects to fruition.  What I have found, though, is the morning structure, created by me, makes my mornings productive.  Afternoons have been less so, with my Musts largely dispatched by the time I return home from OLLI.  I have tried priorities, and work on them, but often do not bring projects to completion, in large part because I am often unclear on what completion entails.  Some things I do well, particular those with a future deadline like an upcoming Torah reading assignment or a submission to a writing contest.  I have a way of pacing myself knowing the end point but often flounder when there is either no completion deadline or I cannot grasp what the final result of my effort should look like.  I have tried to create structure with a timer which encourages me to define the time block for working on something but not for determining the final result.   I suppose there is no reason why I cannot do the same structural definitions of tasks for the afternoon that have succeeded in the mornings.

The evenings go a little better.  Supper gets prepared by me most nights, with eating time a little before 7PM, linking my PM medicine to supper preparation with nearly complete success.  I have a defined time for twice-weekly stretching in late afternoons and a defined time to record my weekly YouTube video, with very few postponements.  Then I have a recreational block, TV time, though more productive than the endless sitcoms I watched prior to subscribing to a comprehensive cable service.  I gravitate to YouTube shows about the trajectories of religion and videos of travel to places I might like to visit but realistically won't. That alone defines my personal interests.  There is Netflix, worth the monthly fee, where my interest varies between short series on assorted topics or more recently stand-up comedy presentations.  I do not usually try to catch up on what I should have done during the afternoon but didn't, nor do I do much housework.  Often I will read from a book I am pursuing, the amount determined by length or time before I begin to read. And I work on Torah readings during the evening hours, pacing myself to achieve fluency by a certain date.  Bed at a fairly specified time, a very helpful rather recent introduction.

So my lost opportunity appears to occur in the afternoons, that unstructured time box between my return from OLLI and supper preparation.  I need to add structure, a predictable routine, for tackling the Semi-Annual projects that lack deadlines, or even a definition of completion.  The templates for doing this are well established and successful most mornings.  As OLLI reaches its summer hiatus, that amorphous time interval will greatly expand.  It needs to be recaptured by the many things I'd like to do but have not taken advantage of my ability to perform at top level.

Stay at Home

I cannot remember the last day that I did not go anywhere.  Even during the pandemic's peak, every day I would go to my car, then drive a route, usually stopping at a store briefly just to be someplace other than my house.  Today my Daily Task List only has one errand that would take me someplace else, one easily postponed.  My OLLI class in the afternoon is by Zoom from my laptop.  Plumbers scheduled to do some major revisions to our systems.  No reason to even get into my car today.  Indeed, an opportunity to focus on things I've been procrastinating.

As much as I like driving from place to place, settling in the lounge chairs then classrooms at OLLI, shopping at Trader Joe's and traversing the aisles of Shop-Rite, getting from place to place generally adds another hour that could be devoted to other things.  Not having a place outside my house that demands my presence, today would be an optimal opportunity to do some of those things I should do but make excuses to postpone. 

Did Instead

Third full day without signing on to X, FB, or Reddit.  I am accessing my email less, but still more than the three times a day anticipated.  

I did my usual activities, those things I would have done anyway without a social media restriction. Up on time, treadmill on time, on-site OLLI session in the morning, Zoom session in the afternoon.  I had a decent lunch.  Made a trip to Trader Joe's for a minimum of things.  I'd have done all of these and still engaged in my usual allotment of social media.

The purpose, though, was to focus on things that had been neglected.  After my OLLI class, I began to tackle the final section of the main bathroom closet.  I did not time the effort.  Some minor sorting.  Things that go to the basement, things that go first level.  Plastic bags are now inside a single plastic bag.  Very little discarded.  Two large bags of health and grooming supplies that will need sorting.  Finished the book I was reading, the third of three in this semi-annual project, the one on a Jewish theme from a bound book.  I began composing an article on Loneliness.  Target 900 words, edited and submitted for publication.  Sometimes you just have to start.  About 300 words, most not worthy of appearing in print for strangers to read.  Really, not that much progress.

I made a list of the Daily Tasks that I am most likely to make excuses to languish.  Most still languish.  I did a good job reading, though.  Tackling two very long articles in The Atlantic, two difficult ones in The Forward.  I would like to comment on one or two of them as Letters.  And I still have time before I make a semi-special supper.  I also feel pretty decent, which will enable me to work some after supper.  

Focus remains a challenge.  There are some articles on how to improve this.  It will take more than just eliminating a common distraction like social media.

Doing the Noodgies

My Daily Task List has its share of items that repeat, even some that reflect Semi-Annual projects.  There is always an excuse to put certain things off, that evil of procrastination.  I'm not lazy, nor are most people who keep deferring what they ought to be doing.  Sometimes these postponed activities really are less important than the ones actively pursued.  Often they have no deadline beyond what is self-imposed.  Invariably there is no immediate adverse consequence to neglecting them. And sometimes they are ignored for the right reason, as in not really part of essential personal objectives.  Whatever the reason, legit, psychological, laziness, these tasks never really exit the Daily Task List, which functions in the manner of a Roach Motel, checking in but never checking out.  They are often noodgie things, stuff that will bring satisfaction, sometimes even important, but often tedious to do.  And sometimes there is a fear, mostly legit, of what will be disclosed once pursued.

Because of this, I designated today to tackle those repetitive items on my Daily Task List that have long overstayed their welcome.

As usual, I created this day's list from my weekly objectives, which are the action elements of my Semi-Annual personal goals.  I then circled in red, the items which had been neglected too long.

1. Read a news article clipped from the paper but not read for weeks since its publication.
2. Submit an op-ed I had written a few weeks ago which depended on my understanding that article.
3. A Committee that I recently joined asked me to do something.
4. I've not opened the Recreation Case that I created months ago. It's a canvas attaché where I keep art and drawing supplies mostly.
5. Spend an evening with my wife.
6. Track down my aging step-mother, my father's widow, who had some phone number changes.
7. Speak to my attorney on a lingering matter.
8. Outline the novel that will make me famous, or maybe the subject should be its non-fiction theme.
9. Start writing a paragraph or two to confirm I am serious about authoring an 80K word work.
10. Decide what car repairs should be done soon and which can wait.
11. Get my snowblower functional before the next coating, on a day unseasonably warm but damp.

Each item on my list for weeks, some longer.  Each repetitively pre-empted by something else for the right reason, or my psyche imposing avoidance for the wrong reason.

So how'd I do?

Read the article.  Even tried to nominate the article for a local reporting Pulitzer.  Deadline for nomination tonight.  I did not know how to use the form and really didn't want to pay the $75 submission form, so I wrote to the newspaper's editor and asked him to consider dealing with the Pulitzer possibility.

Deferred submitting op-ed to next week, to see if the editor-in-chief responds to me first.

Probably better to do the committee work when I go on site in two weeks.

Drew a pear with my drawing pencil.

Wife time after supper

Stepmother tomorrow.  Found the most recent phone numbers.

Spoke to attorney for 20 minutes.  He reassured my worst fears.

Started the novel outline but spent less time on it than allotted by my timer.

So not a bad effort considering these are the things I have avoided the most.  And I still had some time for reading the things I read each day, posting on restricted social media, reconnecting with a friend or two, taking care of a bank errand, slicing the cantaloupe I bought yesterday, doing the scheduled treadmill and stretch, going out for coffee, reviewing some commentaries on the upcoming Torah portion. 

Write when my outline is further along.

Chose the repairs.  Schedule them tomorrow

Too damp for snowblower repair, which needs to take place outside.

There will always be projects that for the right or wrong reasons, I just don't care to do.  But I did a lot of them by assigning a day, and even designated times within the day to set aside the more attractive efforts to place some of the others as rediscovered.  There is something very gratifying to do some of these things, even when their appearance on successive Daily Task Lists drags indefinitely.  And the stuff that I usually gravitate to, those Semi-Annual initiatives, did not get seriously neglected from a one day diverted effort.  

Notifications

My typical morning, excluding shabbos, begins with a screen once the preliminaries of dental care, newspaper retrieval, and a k-cup brew have been completed.  Restrict Social Media appears on my Daily Task List essentially automatically.  And I really do limit my access, though from time to time I will concentrate on either FB or r/Judaism as a personal focus.  But once coffee has been placed within reach of my laptop in My Space, I seek my notifications.  There are five:  emails, FB, Reddit, Twitter now Rated X, and my stats on Medium Daily Digest.  There's a habit to this, though an ambivalent one.  As Loneliness becomes rampant, with our devices as prime villains, there is a certain irony to the first connection to other people each morning should come from how people responded to us on our screens. Designers of these platforms, including psychology majors, have as their business models the attention time to their offerings preferentially to competitors' options.  And they helped create Loneliness so they know which crumbs to toss to offer a very transient reprieve.

All five forums for me are a little different.  Email is by far the most important, though very few messages come from people I know or from organizations I asked to contact me.  Still, there is frequently something from my wife or financial advisor that needs action.  Some of the passive notifications I solicited indirectly, whether notifications from the synagogue, receipts for payments that I made electronically, subscriptions of various types.  And then there are the unwelcome, transferred to spam, deleted without opening, unsubscribed after opening, or more often than not, just not opened.  And on occasion I will also find a notification that somebody else on another forum responded to a comment I had made on that other platform.

Next most important, though probably expendable, is Facebook.  It has taken an ugly transformation in the fourteen years since I subscribed.  FB's initial attraction was to reconnect with old friends and relatives.  Being some forty years past HS graduation, there was a not entirely healthy curiosity about where the decades had taken the people I once interacted with daily in the classroom, school bus, or gym class.  Most volunteered what they were up to.  I became closer to some that first year on FB than I was in HS, even got to see a few.  After establishing about a hundred FB style quasi-Friends, the number of contacts atrophied one or two at a time.  The nominal connections are still there if I ask for my Friends List, but the number of people who post in a way that reaches my daily passive screen has dwindled to just a few.  It has been replaced by algorithms, computer matches which my own keyboard use helps generate, or a perhaps degenerate, which then post things people want to sell me, donations I might like to consider for either causes or candidates, or updates on my preferred teams.  The real people no longer offer short posts about their lives or what they do, other than photos of destinations they are visiting as they visit them.  Still, every morning I can count on an icon that appears designed after the Liberty Bell with a red number next to it.  Open the bell, and I will get a summary of who liked something I had posted or commented upon. In a world of mostly Zero Responses, these are rarely zero.  And the Likes or related emotions nearly all originate with somebody I know personally.  Moreover, somebody on occasion exchanges an idea.

My Reddit feed differs a bit.  Anonymity is built into the platform and it is moderated for propriety, usually successfully.  Like FB, it has a Liberty Bell with a number attached to it.  However, it is a more multifunctional bell than FB's.  It does not ding for each like, but instead milestones of likes:  5, 10. 25. 50. That's as high as I've gotten, though I'm confident others have gone viral with the bell reflecting that.  It notifies me in duplicate when anyone has verbally responded to a comment that I have made.  One number appears next to the bell with a link to take me to the faux conversation, another notification is directed to my email Inbox.  And then there are unsolicited rings of the bell, comments that their algorithm personalizes to me, thinking I might want to read them, though I am not a participant in that Subreddit.  The bell gives me two options, other than going to that conversation.  I can delete the comment, my most typical response.  Or I can ask for no more notifications from that entire Subreddit, which I also do less frequently.  And while my preferred destination is r/Judaism, when I log on I get a Home feed with a lot of other topics other than my personal subscriptions.  Depending on interest, I will respond to some, an invitation to more notifications from that group, even though I am not enrolled in it.

While I do not know anyone on Reddit by platform design, I am quite helpful to a lot of other posters seeking knowledge and experience.  People come testing the waters of Judaism.  They are attending synagogue for the first time, maybe have let their connection to Judaism become dormant and would like to revive it.  We have guests from the Christian and Islamic world who wish to pose a polite question.  Being helpful to somebody else is one of the best defenses to established Loneliness, something Reddit enables far more than any other forum to which I subscribe.  And in some ways the comments, which are not length restricted, can be developed into forms of conversation.

The most problematic forum is Twitter, that public cesspool of ideas which unfortunately also had people of real public influence present in some way.  There are not many ways to give feedback to a journalist, elected official, top executive, or major scholar.  All generate hundreds of responses.  I know almost nobody personally, though many by reputation and by their public presence.  Likes are few, maybe one every few days, and rarely from the person of public prominence.  What I find, though, is that somebody of obscurity will read my comment and opt to follow me further.  These people, when their profiles are accessed, will typically be following 4000 people but have under 100 who follow them.  By contrast, I follow 37 and have 34 who have chosen to follow me. I cannot think of a more overt identification of Loneliness than seeking anyone who comes along randomly while attractiven nobody else in return.  I almost never initiate a political post, mostly share something I've written on my feed.  I've also deleted many a public figure, including some who have the most to say.  The reason, they post something every ten minutes through their waking hours.  And it arrives in my feed as clutter, since they say pretty much the same predictable things for every one of those q ten minute posts.  As a result, my time of that forum is severely rationed.  My most common Follow is The Atlantic, to which I have a subscription, and most common comment is a response to an article I have read there.  Responses in return have been minimal.  

Finally, I self-publish fifteen or so articles each year on Medium, which comes across as a daily digest.  While a freeloader, I have a handful of people who subscribe to my feed, and a small handful of people who read what I have written, or at least open the article.  While never a lot, there is always a measure of gratification to contributing to somebody else's mind.  I do not know these people and get close to zero comments in return.  But it takes only moments each morning to check.

So knowing how I relate, or really how my mind relates to people known and unknown, has an allure that seems difficult to set aside, though I do set it aside for Shabbos every Saturday.  I'm part of cyberspace.  The magnates who control cyberspace want me as part of it, which is more than I can say for people I know in person or through organizations who have done their best to exclude me.  It does not take a lot to feel included.  Mostly a bell shape on a screen with a single digit in red next to it.

Did Nothing

Snow shoveling left me sore.  Two days this past week, spread over three sessions.  One effort to clear the small ridge deposited by the street plow.  Not a lot of snow, as much pushing as lifting.  But maybe not something a senior citizen should be doing, even if paced.  I gave myself credit for an exercise session in lieu of the scheduled treadmill.  

The following day, a Sunday, treadmill hiatus day, I took off.  Not catch-up.  Idle.  As every Sunday morning, I mapped out my week, a very long list of activities I aspire to tackling.  Then a much shorter list of activities for Sunday, most doable at my upstairs desk in My Space.  I did next to none of these.  Washed milchig dishes.  Retrieved the Sunday paper from the driveway to the front door for my wife. Descaled the Keurig Express-Mini as the guy on YouTube recited the instructions.  Made an Aunt Jemima or less offensive new brand pancake for breakfast.  More coffee.  Filled my weekly medication cases, AM and PM.

Over the course of the day, I had done no mental activities other than some easy crosswords and responding to some r/Judaism inquiries on Reddit, including as abrasive response on adverse day school assessments which pampered my id in some way.  No housework other than washing milchig dishes.  No Twitter.  No significant meal preparation.  No quest for my highest level of amusement.  No pursuit of my semi-Annual goals, though I did consider places I might like to travel for the OLLI intercession.  No exchanges with old friends.  Not a whole lot that anyone would judge trying to get ahead. 

By mid-afternoon, I felt a little bored so I got in the car, intending roughly the same circuit I would take during the height of the pandemic when all I could do to get away was drive somewhere.  This time I stopped at a department store.  Strolled the upper floor where they have the non-clothing items, with no serious interest in acquiring more stuff.  A half-lap of that floor got me to the escalator.  Despite my herb pots being indoors due to a freeze, newly placed lurid patterned men's swim trunks at premium prices had been placed at the base of the escalator on the first floor.  I guess people are preparing for their cruise or week in the Caribbean.  I'm not.  No tour of the rest of the clothing floor, just a straight path back to my car.

Home in time for NFL Divisional games.  I didn't really want to watch any whole games, just the final quarters.  First game late afternoon, second game after supper.  No particular interest in supper.

I keep two logs that I fill out each evening except Shabbos.  One is a record of Daily Annoyance.  Not doing anything of significance is a good way to not having any personal calamity, though I did slip on the ice sheet outside my front door.  No fall, no injury, but recorded in the log.  The second journal was titled Hakaras HaTov, or Gratitude for Good Things that day.  It really turned out more to a record of three things worthwhile that I achieve each day.  Being purposefully idle, I found it hard to come up with three, but on reflection:

1. I ate a proper breakfast and lunch
2. My remarks of r/Judaism satisfied my id and were helpful to others
3. I arose from bed when the clock said to even if I didn't really want to=

There's always at least three.  The sun always goes down at the time the astronomers predict.  I read my current e-book, three chapters of a classic borrowed from the Hoopla Service offered by the public library.  I do not know when it will have its auto-return.  And watched the score of the Division Playoff on my smartphone.  

After supper, I always outline the following day, which I proceeded to do.  Having done nothing of substance, largely by intent, all Sunday, Monday would have to be a lot different.  Activities to pursue filled three columns.  Some element of my twelve semi-annual projects appears somewhere on this very long to-do list.  It is the day I weigh myself and take a waist circumference.  I have fleishig dishes from shabbos to wash.  It's a scheduled treadmill and stretch day.  Time of the month for financial record keeping.  And some future projects that have deadlines.  The very opposite of my idle day.  And more forced than motivated activity.  I cannot really say my Sunday downtime left me restored for Monday. 

Yet I needed this respite, one day in which I created a Daily Task List as usual but did not get concerned about letting it sit mostly untapped to the right of my laptop while I escaped for one day.

Calling In Sick

My Daily Task List, saturated with the Get Me Ahead, will need to take what I hope is a one day snooze.  My Covid booster got a week overdue.  Now, the Influencers from the synagogue could have sent be back to the parking lot, but for the last two Saturday mornings I was pretty useful to them.  And they have no way of tracking who is up to date with the congregational policy of up to date immunizations as a precondition for attendance.  There is still some Covid floating around, though the deadly form seems to have gone the way of cholera, plague, and influenza meltdowns through history.  Still, catching up on my immunization seemed prudent.  I picked a day and time.  After a rather pleasant Open House at OLLI, I braved the rain and drove to the Super G Pharmacy as a walk-in.  No problem accommodating me.  Within a short time, my left deltoid had been punctured with Moderna's latest.

About five hours later, shortly after supper, I realized that not only had I taken something, but that my innards had been primed to generate cytokines.  My arm got sore.  I got edgy.  I felt a little warm, though not feverish.  And nausea.  And no end of systemic symptoms, from sore muscles to unsteadiness of gait.  I toughed it out until my usual bedtime but could not get comfortable.  Eventually I must have dozed, at least until 2AM, then spent the rest of the night looking at the red numerals on the clock radio, experimenting with postures.  I felt thirsty.  So thirsty that I went downstairs to the kitchen and brought my best insulated water bottle to my bedside, sipping it a few more times during the night.  By my customary wake time, those cytokine symptoms were still dragging me to unsteadiness.  Coffee not only did not help, but my customary k-cup brand did not taste right.  Back to bed.  It would take until late morning for those systemic symptoms to abate.  No treadmill today.  No petty errands.  Effectively a loss-leader of a night and following morning.

While the innards feel better, the deltoid injection site does not.  That will have to wait another day.

And the ultimate irony.  My incentive for getting the injection was to maintain the honor system of eligibility to attend shabbos services at my congregation.  And I'm really looking forward to not being there the next two Saturday mornings.

Overextended

This week the organized Jewish community has arranged for a rally on Capitol Hill to protest the rising Anti-Semitism that become more visible as Israel responds to the massacre of its people a month ago.  I went to the last one a few years back, greatly enjoyed the experience, and wrote about it for the local Jewish magazine.  Organizations run shuttle buses, a 2.5h ride each way, though a very pleasant one in a modern coach.  I really wanted to go, but learned of the sponsored bus too late to reserve a seat.  It's just as well, as my weekly list of what I need to accomplish and want to accomplish has reached a record of nearly three columns of items.

Something of a challenge to put I want to do, or even separate what I need to do from what I aspire to do, into categories.  I have a medical test that needs minor preparation.  Memorial prayer for my father next shabbos requires me to attend services.  OLLI classes five days, watch the recording of the class I missed last week.  Shopping for Thanksgiving dinner.  Having a kitchen repair.  There is a big advantage to having my kid's Hanukkah gifts purchased and wrapped before they arrive for Thanksgiving.

And then there are the things I need to maintain health and keep my mind agile.  Eating judiciously, exercising on schedule, reviewing my test results, tracking my health measurements.  And my means of expression:  writing, weekly video, blog, thoughtful social media comments, reading things to which I have subscribed, daily reviews of accomplishments and annoyances.  

And then I need to upgrade portions of my living space and insert some recreation.

It's a rather long list.  And I would have gone to DC for the day if there was still room on the bus.

Staying on Task

Semi-Annual Projects.  Weekly Agenda.  Daily Task List.  All interrelated, though not all really subdivisions of the others.  My laundry or the dishes is never part of a larger plan, though on certain days it might be a daily task.  And all twelve Semi-Annual Projects require multiple steps.  So as I filter my effort from the grandiosity of what I thought would be good to work on in June or December to what I need to do today I reach a daily branch point.  I could either be working on it or I did it.  That distinction is not always clear each day, but at the reckoning when one six-month cycle moves to the next it is.

As I mark each day's aspirations each morning I put a designation at each task that I regard as finite, I can tell when I have or have not completed it.  Sometimes, but not often, I put a different designation for those which when done will not reappear in the following week's outline.  There are so few of these that I largely stopped isolating them.

I think my mind defaults to working on it, as most daily efforts are components of a grander aspiration.  It may be better to assess in a framework of I did it.  This does not always delineate easily.  I can tell when I've read a NEJM article or washed the fleishig dishes or completed the desired treadmill session.  Figuring out other things like whether I have read enough of the book I am currently reading or reached out adequately to an old friend does not have as clear an end point. But I think I did it makes for a more satisfying end of day review than I worked on it.  

Attention Span

Never took Ritalin. Adderall, or Vyvanse.  My guess is that if my childhood occurred now, I'd have a prescription.  Might have even done better in college and beyond medicated, as my ability to stay at task always challenged me.  Instead, I compensated, doing multiple small tasks, choosing a medical specialty where patients would come at short intervals without my ever having to stay focused in the OR or other procedure room for hours.  Yet there is also hyperfocus, similar to Flow, getting absorbed in a project without intent, then pursuing it to completion, sometimes to the neglect of more important things.

After depending on my timer, whether to exercise or focus mentally on something I might not have tackled at all, I engaged in two episodes of absorbed attention.  It had been my intent to tackle the clutter in my basement as a semi-annual project.  Work for 25 minutes three times a week, my usual approach.  Instead, I asked myself how much I could get done there if I did only that for an afternoon.  So downstairs yesterday, half an afternoon.  No timer.  I still thought in small segments, culling a box of artwork, going through unselected boxes where I could separate like things.  Tools went one place, hardware another, painting supplies someplace else.  Recycling went into a dedicated box.  Stuff for the weekly trash pickup into a plastic kitchen bag inserted in a supporting plastic receptacle.  And onward.  Did OK.  Worked for about an hour and a half without once checking my watch.  Put calendars from ten years ago and a box of jars into recycling.  Good effort.  

Later, it was my monthly day to log expenses.  Signed onto my credit card and banking sites with a sheet of loose-leaf paper.  Then each charge for the month of June written by date.  Then transfer to Excel by category, playing with the sequence of columns to make data transfer easier and making a big mistake that had to be corrected as I went.  Then wife's cards logged the same way.  At the end a query to my wife on some expenses in which the categories were not obvious and in which I think what was spent may not have been the wisest purchase.  No interruptions.  At the end, all completed, that loose-leaf page went into the annual folder behind last month's expense log.  Then I had Excel calculate how much I spent in each category this quarter and for the half year.  No surprises.

What I was able to do for these tasks, or maybe for yesterday afternoon irrespective of the nature of the task, was to string together multiple small efforts without interruption.  It's possible.  Perhaps this can be applied to other things, a half-day writing instead of a focus session, a half-day at My Space instead of a few short bursts over three days.  I do this when I drive, paying attention to the highway for about two hours at a time.  I sometimes succeed this way at the supermarket, though more often I go from aisle to aisle or department to department.  And when I make an elegant dinner, my attention is sustained, though the various tasks, whether making one dish or a single process such as chopping, are often put into short compartments of a few minutes each.   This would change my Daily Task List a bit, some things not appearing at all on the page some days to allow for concentration on other things. Worth experimenting a bit more.

Committing to the Whiteboard

It's posted.  It will remain in my line of sight to my left from my desk and swivel chair for the next six months.  The left third of my Avandia Whiteboard now contains a list of my Semi-Annual Projects, of them.  They become the basis for my weekly outline every Sunday, daily task list created the night before, and end of week assessment every Saturday.

1. Entertain Three Guests
2. Submit Three Articles for Publication
3. Write first draft of an 80K word book
4. Serve on an OLLI Committee
5. Achieve my Waist, Weight, and BP Targets
6. Organize the Basement
7. My Space to its Completed Form
8. Hire Household Help
9. Arrange IRA Distributions
10. Visit France
11. Three Day Trips
12. Dedicate Evenings to Be with My Wife

They differ somewhat from the prior semi-annual cycle, but all fall within the SMART Criteria of specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, and time limited.  All take some effort, even a significant measure of focus.  Some need the cooperation of other people.  Yet all are worth pursuing, so I will pursue each of them.

Day of Chores

As much as I want to move along with writing and other self-expression, today may turn out better dedicated to chores.  Cold laundry sorted, both regular and gentle.  More than the usual amount of gentle.  None takes very long once sorted.  Just tote each basket downstairs, put in the right machine at the right time, let the washer and drier perform, fold, and return the garments to their assigned place in my bedroom.  Ample dishes to do.  Not that many fleishig ones remain.  And I need to reseason the cast iron grill pan from its ordeal with a rib steak.  Then exchange sink to milchig and do those dishes.  I've already done a load of milchig dishwasher, so the rest need to be washed by hand, which I mostly find relaxing.

My herb pots seem to be going well.  In the backyard the flowers and vegetables could use some watering.  I should begin weeding.  And I bought a package of Swiss chard seeds.  Maybe plant three grids of these, or a dozen.  Thinning seedlings is premature.

And today's centerpiece, completing the transfer of my house to the revocable trust to avoid probate at some future time.

Those are the do it and done tasks.  I also have room and space tidying.  My Space with its destination desk, the kitchen, my half of the bedroom.  Never quite done.  Multiple schemes to promote progress, from setting a timer for a fixed duration of effort or setting a subtask to work on until completion.  Short bursts of intermediate progress.

But in the end, while having all the laundry and dishes done generates some tangible accomplishment, I've always had a preference for my mental efforts.  So no matter how much laudable household chores or errands I do, my assessment of how the day went falls back to what I read or wrote.  Time for that not only gets carved into each day, but with a timer that allows nothing else as it ticks to zero.

Coffee's Good

Some preparation for endoscopic studies changed my intake and activities for three days.  Due to a failed procedure and some bothersome delays on the repeat, I was especially meticulous for the preparation.  Three days before I began a clear liquid diet.  Coffee became black, with a splash of sugar.  Three 10 oz servings each of three mornings by k-cup, even finished three of the varieties, including two of them from a large box, though with enough of the final variety to tide me through the upcoming start of Pesach when the Keurig K-Express machine goes dormant for a week.  On the day of the procedure, no coffee, which may have been why I dragged a bit the rest of the day.

Coffee now restored.  K-cup instructed to fill 8 ounces, did not pay attention to which blend.  Zetz of generic coffee-mate stirred in.  Taking pleasure sipping it from one of my favorite cups.  It's good.  And when it's done, I'll make another cup.

One of the offshoots of this distraction, Sat-Sun-Mon-Tues, has been the diversion of my energy and my focus.  While glucose feeds the brain, and the soda supplied that, the body runs on a more varied array of caloric sources and a much larger total number of calories.  My weekly weight, a Monday morning ritual, ticked downward to a new low.  So now I know how to get my weight down, though not in the healthiest or most sustainable way.  The laxatives, spread over two evenings, sapped my strength, interfering with sleep the night before the procedure.  I just did not have the energy or mental acuity to do anything of substance that required analytical thought, memory, or sustained attention, which is the majority of my Semi-Annual projects.

While my checklist of the undone has grown, the colonoscopy behind me literally and figuratively, a very successful one well-worth the postponement of my personal productivity, I think I'm ready to resume the sustained effort and volume of work it takes to get these tasks moving toward fulfillment.

Fueled by coffee first, some calories later, and a very long written Daily Task List to extract the priorities.