Setup
If I get enough sleep, I usually wake up with an empty mind. My bedroom is quiet, the sun is out behind the drawn shades, and over the next couple of minutes I recognize the different parts of the room. Everything in the room at that moment has equal importance. The TV is no more important than a book, and the most expensive suit in my closet isn’t more important than any of my tattered t-shirts in the middle dresser drawer.
What is important at the beginning of most mornings is that I go pee in the bathroom. I do that, and then it isn’t important anymore.
After the bathroom, I either go to my computer to read e-mail or check my Franklin organizer to see what I need to do first, or at least worry about first. If there’s voicemail on my land line or cell phone, I listen to those.
On smart mornings, I’ll bypass the computer and Franklin and phones, and instead take my time to make coffee, and step outside with the dogs to check out the weather. On smart mornings.
On stupid mornings, I will let my e-mails decide what I need to think about first, and if none of them can decide for me, I’ll create a forced hierarchy of “tasks” and label them in terms of importance. Regarding my Franklin organizer, I’d already written and prioritized everything the day before, so I just need to do these things even though I don’t really feel like doing any of them. If I finish three highly prioritized Franklin tasks before breakfast, I automatically reward myself some bonus points because that’s what I’m supposed to do, according to Franklin Covey’s instructions.
While reading e-mail, I will read messages from people who, according to how I perceive their writings, will regard me differently. I will decide who likes me more than others, who agrees with me more than others, and will respond to each message based on how I feel at that moment and whether or not I am multitasking and not really paying full attention to the message. Since I can’t read minds, I will pretend that I can, and will fill in the blanks on any vague topics by assuming others’ intentions in my own head.
The rest of the day is a repeated, multiplied version of the stupid morning. As the day goes on, I listen less to my own internal importances and more to what the Internet, TV, books and magazines say. If I feel like really being stupid, I will also add the opinions of others to the mix. I will confirm all these external ideas with percentages and statistics that are also available on the Internet, TV, books and magazines.
Sometimes I will take a nap in the middle of the day, and when I wake up, all the confirmations are gone again, and I have to spend the rest of the day recompiling.
At the end of the day, I am exhausted, full of doubt, and carrying an even longer list of unaccomplished tasks. And then I go to sleep, looking forward to waking up with nothing again.