I needed to work yesterday after a busy (and wonderful) long weekend away. I dutifully sat down at the computer.
I opened my document. But then remembered I hadn’t yet sorted the accumulated email.
I responded to the urgent.
Decided to do a little research for my USMarshal WitSec story and follow up on a name and some info I just learned.
In the course of surfing the web, it became apparent I needed to get on Facebook.
“Don’t do it,” I told myself. “You’ll get sucked in and the day will be half over.”
“That’s silly,” Myself told I. “I can get on, look for what I need and get off. It’s easy. Here, watch.”
Click. Click … “ooh, I haven’t heard from her in weeks, I better see what the message says…”
Yep, thirty minutes later I forced myself to log off. Now myself is angry at me for not listening to I.
I got off Facebook and faced my document again.
A stack of pictures on my desk caught my eye. I’ve been meaning to scan them and share them with friends and family. Some of them date back to the 1980s and I know everyone is dying to see their younger selves.
What’s not to love?
Why is it so hard to get to work?
Part of it is the fact that I’m a freelancer. I don’t have an employer who expects forty hours a week at the keyboard from me.
On the other hand, I’ve broken myself of all computer games. Though to be honest, Facebook has filled in that gap.
Okay, one more picture to scan and then I’m getting to work. Really.