For the last couple of weeks, I've been coming in really, seriously early. I've written about this before. And I can't decide if I like it, or if I really hate it.
Let's get the "hate" out of the way first. It means getting up way early. (On the other hand, when you end up waking yourself up at 4 am because of stress/worry and a cat who wants breakfast, it doesn't make much sense to flip over and try to go back to sleep if you're just going to be up an hour and a half later. I can't let myself unwind if I know I'm just going to have to be somewhere in a little bit, anyway.) It means driving in while the moon's still out. It means loading yourself with caffeine to stay alert for another day's chores. And it means coming home feeling completely limp, not just from dealing with the daily hassles but also because your body's screaming for rest.
On the other hand, what's good about it? Quiet time. Throughout the work day, I can never really relax because I never know when someone will drop in and want something. But if I come in early, I can sit in the office with my door closed and the likelihood of being interrupted is next to zilch. That means I have a couple hours to catch up on work, get a few chores out of the way, get my game face on, and generally be ready for what the day throws at me.
There's one more reason getting here early appeals to me. There's an eerie allure to our building when it's empty and I can just work. No one else is around, it's after/before hours, and I really get the feeling I can get things done. I've come in on weekend afternoons to finish newspaper layouts and the lights are out, and part of me is creeped out by the silence, and part of me thinks it's the coolest thing because I can be left alone to get things done.
It hasn't just been when it's just me. A few years ago I got saddled with a project that ended up taking much longer, and being more of a hassle, than I imagined it would. (That tends to happen with projects, don't it?) Initially, I was grumpy that I had to stay long after hours, feeding DVD after DVD into the burner. But, as the evening wore on, I started to enjoy it a little. I got the feeling I was getting something done. Our staff guy was helping out, and as discs were burning we'd go out in the hallway and watch television. I went home those nights really feeling like I'd gotten something done. It was night, it was quiet, and the only demands on me involved getting the job done that I was there to do. And that, when you get down to it, is part of what makes me contented: being left alone to get my work finished.
So, much as it's a grind to get up early and go home tired, that's the one really good thing about this weird schedule I'm keeping. I'm actually getting some things done.
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