Premeditated Mania

I love the idea of manic periods (of time...avoid the easy joke, but head-nod to my bros, I didn't miss it) where I am extremely focused on one thing. I know some people work "every" day and have a "balanced life" but I have always struggled with that. Sure, if I consistently got up before noon I would be much further ahead. Yeah, if I didn't lay on my bed in the afternoons to "relax" (not sleep!) for "just a little bit" and then act surprised when I fell asleep. "What? I don't even like my bed? Gross! How did I get here? Just let me put on a shirt and I will be right out."

So I am going to enter a manic week beginning right now, ending Friday, February 19th 11:59 PM. The only rule is that I must do something concrete on every side-project I have and complete every task, paper, research, etc that I have postponed. If I have to do a piss-poor 1.0 version of most things, I will. Just get it out the door. Anything I don't get to in the next seven days will disappear off my list FOR-EV-AR.

Business ideas, MBA applications, trip planning, papers, thesis ideas, job search, taxes, investment decisions, grant applications--everything will be done, poorly, haltingly, crassly, full-errors, and with little attention to detail. But, from everything I have learned at grad school and on the internet, quantity is the new quality. Just be really frantic, tell everyone how busy you are, how they couldn't possibly understand, and spray them down with a fire hose of reprocessed and repurposed BS. If they try to comment on your work, yell louder and aim that fire hose at their face.

Blog-worthy? Not really. Well, I take that back--it is worthy of my blog. I have a really low bar. I mean, when a picture of me shirtless, unshaven, and disheveled is one of my better posts, I am really scraping bottom. Interesting? Nope. Just thought I would let you know the guy with bloodshot eyes and the creepy mustache who smells of chocolate chip cookies and diet coke hunched over a small, florescent-lit cube in the library scribbling on a yellow legal pad and bouncing one knee out of sync with bad pop--that's me. I will be Getting Things Done with my little flowchart.