dragonbook

23 there will be 150 blue-book exams and 30 term papers on my desk, all of which have graded by December 27. Too much to do, too little time. Not even enough time to gather the family around the Advent wreath for a few minutes. Seven-year-old Michael asks if we can’t have Advent. We put him off: no one has had time to prepare anything. Maybe tomorrow. Now I shouldn’t be struggling like this. After all, I teach time management to my students, and I know all the techniques for making maximum use of available time. So: time to practice what I preach. First, establish some goals: lifetime goals, goals for the next five years, and goals I intend to achieve this month. Next, make a list of all the things I have to do to achieve these goals. Next, prioritize the list, noting which items are essential, which are of high priority, and which aren’t particular important. Then: the schedule itself. Make a grid that includes every day of the week and every hour of the day. Start filling in the grid, making sure to put in the most important items first. It doesn’t work. Every block is filled before I finish even half the essential items. For that matter, every block is filled with priority one: spending time with my wife and kids. Jim Croce was right. There never is enough time to do the things you want to do once you find them. Except--maybe there is. Maybe there’s a time management technique that really will work. Suppose there were a way, not only to save time in a bottle, but to get interest on the time saved as well. Suppose one could stash away an hour, and have two hours to use later. Or perhaps one

RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy NzkyNTY=