Thursday, February 28, 2008

Efficiency Rating = High.


Does anyone else find that your efficiency is directly proportional to your busy-ness? Let's consider the present: Danny and I are scurrying around Los Angeles in preparation for our trip to SXSW and the premiere of Humboldt County (which is barely more than a week away)!
We've got to balance our ordinary lives (not very exciting), the development of our next project (more exciting than our ordinary lives), publicity for Humboldt (pretty darn exciting), the helping of friends and family with plans and travel arrangements for Austin (which fills us with aniticipatory excitement), the creation and completion of To-Do lists full of errands (satisfying, but not exciting), and still find time to sleep and occasionally say hello to girlfriends and friends.

What is the result of this manic schedule? Extreme productivity. If I had to assign a rating, from 1 to 10, of my own efficiency at the current moment, I would give myself an 8.3, which is approaching my maximum efficiency capability (I believe I broke into the mid-nines during the production of the film, and that's as high as I go). It feels good. It makes me wonder why I can't be more like this all the time. It also makes me wonder if I'd want to be like this all the time.

Because the reality is when I don't have 57 things on my to do list, I sit around and "try to write," which really means I'm on the couch eating Cheez-Its, judging myself unfavorably against the extreme productivity of those incredibly irriating "other people."

So what's the verdict here? What's the lesson of all this rambling? Is there even a point? Should we always make ourselves busy? None, none, no and no to those 4 questions. As for always being busy, that would be awful. I'd never get to sit on the couch and eat Cheez-Its. I love Cheez-Its.

So it goes, round and round. I complain now that I have no time to relax. When I relax, I complain that I am not getting anything done. How do you spell fickle? D-A-R-R-E-N.

And yet I love every minute of my kvetch-filled existence.

I gotta go now; I'm not getting anything done.


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