NPR was the tip-off.
“What is up with those morons?” I thought as I sped past Scotts Valley and into the Santa Cruz Mountains on my way to Santa Clara. The traffic was light, and I was ahead of schedule. Even though I hadn’t slept much the night before, I figured I was getting my week off to a good start.
But the chipper voices on the radio kept gnawing at me. “This is NPR’s Morning Edition,” the voices said. Seriously, is it too difficult for NPR to check what day of the… I looked down at my watch.
SU 4-20
That “SU” doesn’t mean Monday, does it? No, it doesn’t. It means Sunday.
I turned around and headed back for home.
Normally we hold our family dinner on Sunday evening. The extended family congregates for a couple of hours to eat and relax. I reserve Sunday nights after the dinner for researching and writing papers for classes. This weekend, for a variety of reasons, both of those events occurred on Saturday rather than Sunday. I crawled into bed at 1 am. Having toiled for several hours on a paper, my mind kicked into Monday Morning Prep Mode. When I awoke, the powerful forces of habit and routine kicked into gear, propelling me along almost unconsciously.
If I’d done a nightly GTD review like I was supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. But it also wouldn’t have happened had I simply taken a moment this morning to stretch, stand out on the balcony, and clear my head before jumping into action.
Perhaps this incident is really about being in the final semester of law school. The long, grueling marathon is almost over. There’s a water station right in front of me, but I can see that finish line. I’m so happy to see it, so eager to reach it, that I’d rather turn Sunday into Monday than delay the journey’s conclusion.
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