A Play for One for One to Play

FROM DAVID:

Disclaimer: this post contains mild techno-babble.

One morning last week, I read Anticipating What We Don't Want - another great post from amazing Kate on the Son-Rise Program blog. From there, I considered my own buttons and where Kate's bonbon of wisdom applied in my life. When and where in the day-to-day do I tend to anticipate that something that I don't want to happen will inevitably happen?

A good example of how I do this comes from my work. It's called ConnectWise (CW). CW is an "IT automation system" into which those of us that want to get paid are required to enter each task we execute and the time it took to do it. I usually complete 5-8 things a day. So, each week, that's 30-some entries. Not so much to do. But when I see that little CW icon on my screen, my heart beats faster and my stomach muscles contract. I decide to avoid it and work on something else. "I'll catch up later, after I've finished a few things.", I tell myself. What I'm doing, obviously, is procrastinating.

The reason I want to enter my time, you know, some other time is that I developed a distaste for timesheets because I got so busy for around a month that I didn't have time to enter my time, until the end of the month. I am a Son-Rise Program dad, and I don't like to lose my playroom time with Eidan to my work. Anyway, at the end of the month, that's more like 120 time entries to fill in through a process to which I haven't yet found the "funnerer" side. Click. Page load. Click. Page refresh. Click. Enter number of hours. Tab...

OK, but what if I just enter my time as I go? Open time entry. Do work. Enter time. Close time entry. Next. That's doable, right? Sure! But inside, I'm thinking that the simple act of opening CW is, without a doubt, leading me into a laborious process. And then, magically, I get a feeling akin to "oooooh. a mocha would be nice", except it's "ooooooh. i can just skip this one. or two." and bam! I've created the exact thing I wanted to avoid - 120 entries to fill in.

Rather than "procrastination", I'm going to call this "Creating What I Don't Want For Myself". And doesn't CWIDWFM (say "quidwiffum") come in other flavors? I love looking at it as CWIDWFM because of the beautiful nugget of ownership in its gooey core. It reveals that I'm staging a fun little drama for myself - a play for one for one to play.

For the beautiful reason that it's a loving thing to do for myself, as I sit down to my desk tomorrow morning and see that CWIDWFM icon, I'm going to run my mouse towards it and celebrate my every Click.