Despite our best planning, brilliant juggling, inspired delegation skills, and a commitment to finish projects, shit happens. Life delivers unexpected challenges, not enough hours in the day, and a boss who feigns understanding but only cares about results. Hectic is an understatement. Coworkers pack your inbox with emergencies, thoughtlessly making them your problem (because you are the expert at finding solutions). When you think it can’t get any worse, a truckload of lemons arrives on your doorstep. This overworked, fresh-out-of-ideas introvert is not amused.

TGIF. I need a lovely meal, preferably one I don’t have to cook, but I dread looking at the same tired takeout menus and waiting for an hour or more for the privilege of microwaving cold food. The best covid inspired delivery service is from my local liquor store. I am glad they have seen the folly of half inebriated people making the perilous journey for necessary supplies. Besides, my anxiety over the bumper crop of lemons diminishes in direct proportion to my alcohol consumption. Hey? Where is my friend with the alcohol? There is nothing better than a quiet drink savored after surviving a hellish week before succumbing to absolute exhaustion.

I am excited for the impending weekend, the promised opportunity of sleeping late, avoiding work-related obligations for two entire days, and the room I need to relax and recover. When I can breathe, I plan to organize and schedule next week. My goal is to get back on track. Is anyone need a few lemons?

How do you recuperate after a busy week?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

I love starting vegetables for my summer garden from those cute seed packets. Every spring, I purchase envelopes with pretty pictures, consult the Farmer’s Almanac for the last expected hard frost, calculate germination times, and coordinated planting dates with my schedule. This year, I am reworking my landscaping, so, I opted to limit my spring plantings to tomatoes and basil. I have major changes planned in the yard, and I needed to concede to a lack of time and space for a more ambitious undertaking.

The Farmer’s Almanac called for sowing both tomato and basil seeds for indoor germination anytime between March 24th and April 7th in my zone. True to my nature, I pushed the window and delayed setting up my table until the last possible day. Tomatoes typically germinate in 5 to 10 days and basil in 5 to 7 days. But I’m not patient. As soon as I plopped the little darlings into their peat pots, I was looking for signs of life.

So many things can go wrong at this stage. Perhaps the seeds are too old, the soil too wet or too dry, or maybe the temperature dips below optimum levels. I checked my babies almost every hour. Black dirt stared back at me. Turning the tray from side to side, I searched for a hint of green before my logical side kicked in to remind me of the 5-day minimum. I marked my calendar, crossed out each day, and waited. I hate waiting, so I tried to occupy my mind and forced myself to stop watching the clock. Days 5, 6, and 7 passed with no encouraging sightings, and I feared I had overlooked some critical variable.

Yesterday, I looked at them once more before I admitted defeat, chucked the failures, and started over. With a heavy sigh, I lifted the cover, expecting to find sad brown mud. Instead, I discovered tiny flecks of green sprinkled across the dark, moist surface. I think I squealed and giggled, and I might have clapped my hands. Flipping on the grow light, I spoke to my new plants. They say they thrive when they know they are loved.

What are you planting in your garden?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

People who use their car’s GPS for a trip to the grocery store amuse me. The directions couldn’t be easier or more direct—turn right as you exit the subdivision, turn left at the fourth stoplight, and make a right into the parking lot. When I question the logic behind their choice, the typical response is, “Oh, I just what to see where I am going.” I suppose it makes sense.

Yet when I ask them about their plans for the week, next month, or a year from now, I invariably receive a deer-in-the-headlights stare. Answers for the next week illicit expected activities like work, errands, and upcoming appointments. Extend the period thirty days, and you get shoulder shrugs or belatedly remembered mentions of an impending birthday, graduation, or wedding. I assure if you continue the line of questioning and inquire about next year, they will call you a weirdo.

Maybe I am odd. While others associate higher risks in short-term activities, I place my egg in the long-term planning basket. I find looking forward lets me be proactive rather than reactive. I don’t have a crystal ball, but it doesn’t take a fortune teller to predict you will never become a doctor if you are not studying biology, chemistry, or enrolled in Pre-Med classes. Imagining what life might look like in five or ten years gives me direction. Today’s dreams form the foundation of my goals.

Planning where I want to go forces me to assess my current position, establish a realistic roadmap, and set tactics for moving towards my future reality. I can anticipate pitfalls, roadblocks, and hurdles before they happen and devise strategies to avoid or minimize their impact on my progress. I know it works because once upon a time I dreamed of living the life I have now.

Where will your GPS take you?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Once upon a time, I worked for a boss who held one core workplace belief. He maintained that a clean desk was the sign of a productive worker. He often walked around the office after hours, leaving notes for people instructing them to clean up their act. Thankfully, I never received his scathing reminder. The office manager gave me a helpful heads-up. I’m not a messy, clutter-producing, nick-knack-loving, office supply hoarding type of person. Instead, I tend toward the more neat and tidy side of life. Still, when I am working on various projects, things can look as if they are out of control.

I work on a pile system. Almost without looking, I can locate the exact document I need from the proper stack. Files with essential documents, post-it notes with directions, comments, ideas, and reminders, litter my desktop. My favorite pens, highlighters, markers, paperclips, and binder clips live where I can reach them without thinking. Controlled chaos reigns during my major project sessions. Business means you are working on multiple mission-critical projects every day. When I complete a project, the white tornado rolls through town and puts everything in its place. In a perfect world, I would have left everything where it lay each evening, but that would not have passed muster with the clean desk patrol.

I needed a solution to keep everyone happy and allow me to work in my preferred manner. I opted to enact an elaborate subterfuge scheme. Fifteen minutes before quitting time, I would carefully move each pile and place them in a side drawer, separated by brightly colored folders. My top drawer became the dedicated night-time home for smaller items. Each morning, I spent the first few minutes drinking coffee and resetting my stage. The work-around amounted to two-and-a-half hours of unproductive staging time every week. I wonder if he ever realized he was paying me to rearrange so much paper.

How do you maintain your work area?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer