Carol Finds Her Way

The Great American Work-Out

BenefitNews.com recently published the results of a survey (www.benefitnews.com/pfv.cfm?id=8706) showing how Americans who "work" at home at least part-time (40 million people) actually spend their time. It turns out they deal with their kids, make personal phone calls, surf the Net, watch TV, nap, run errands, and do housework.

What they don't do is work, or at least not much: 53% said they worked less than three hours a day, and 25% admitted that they spend less than an hour a day working when they're at home.

I can't say that I'm surprised. I've been a self-employed writer and editor for a number of years now, so I'm well aware of the allure of absolutely anything but work when your workplace is home.

When faced with a blank computer screen, I've been known to haul out the step ladder and dust all the ceiling fans. I've voluntarily called my mother to hear about the latest funeral of a stranger she's attended ("It was Mrs. Murphy's husband. You know Mrs. Murphy, your high school English teacher? She wasn't?"). I've done more laundry than I would have thought my family owned. I've checked the weather in Slovenia (chilly and damp) and the traffic in Lahore (jammed). I've bought groceries, picked up dry cleaning, tricked the dog into going to the vet, and washed the car. I've even, God help me, taken my teenage son clothes shopping.

At least now I know I'm in good company. The next time I decide that I really must mulch the azaleas before I can get back to work, I'll do it guilt free. After all, if 40 million people are doing it, can it be so bad?

(To read more about how I manage to fritter away work hours, countered by great tips on how to use your time more effectively plus advice on getting organized, check out the April issue of my newsletter, Finding Our Way, called "Getting Organized, or How to Find Your Desk." To subscribe, simply go to www.findingourway.com.)

When the To-Do List Just Doesn't

I seem to be permanently stuck in that level of Hell called "Poor Time Management," and I'm wondering if my to-do list might be part of the problem. Today is a perfect example. Between teaching a class, appointments with clients, and driving my son to his tennis lesson three towns over--and then back again--I know that I have only three hours in which to tackle everything on the list. Nonetheless, I've written down 17 separate tasks.

This might not be as crazy as it sounds, under certain circumstances. If, say, every task were simple, it took no more than 10 minutes, and I wanted to do it, I'd be home free. Like if Items 1-6 were "Read back issues of People Magazine while getting a pedicure," 7-13 were "Watch an episode of The Gilmore Girls," and the last four were "Meet a friend for coffee," then I could do everything on my to-do list.

But, of course, that's not what's there. No, my list has tasks like: 1. Do taxes (Too late for an extension? Call IRS and find out.); 4. Clean mold off basement walls; 7. Weight lifting--at least an hour; 9. Write draft of article, "The Magic of Mulch," (due Friday!!!!); 13. Replace office filing system with one that works; and 17. Return seriously, possibly criminally, overdue DVDs and try to get manager to reduce fine.

Nothing on that list is simple. Every task would need many different steps, and Item 4 requires a hazmat suit. Nothing will take only 10 minutes. In fact, some of them could take days or weeks. And my level of enthusiasm for any of them? So low as to not be detectable.

The reality is that not one thing on that list is going to get done today. So why bother writing it at all? Wait, that could be Item 18: Figure out why I compose impossible to-do lists.