Showing posts with label external supports for willpower.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label external supports for willpower.. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Time Management Tuesday: The Longest Day Of The Week. Seriously.


Anyone else notice Tuesdays seeming particularly long? Me neither. But it's supposed to be a thing.  "...time can feel like it's passing more slowly on Tuesdays compared to other days of the week."

There are a couple of theories as to why this happens. The one that I can just barely understand goes something like this: Weekends we don't do so much. We're not filing away a lot of events/tasks in our memories. Monday we're transitioning into the work week, still not doing as much as we will later in the week, still not filing away a lot of events/tasks in our memories. "On Tuesdays, we're in the thick of it. Hence, it's possible that our brains generate more discreet memories on Tuesdays, making Tuesdays seem as though they're longer than other days."

A lot about time management involves psyching ourselves out. We work in 45-minute units with brief breaks so that when we start a new unit we think we're starting the day over with a fresh load of will power. It's also a "trick" that provides us with an external support for will power. We try to treat our time slip-ups with compassion so we don't succumb to the what-the-hell effect. Is there some way we can use the illusion that Tuesdays are longer to actually do more?

My guess is no, since it sounds as if those who feel Tuesdays are longer days do so because of their memories of what they've already done and not because they perceive Tuesday as being long, and thus providing more opportunities to do things, while they are actually living through the day.

The theory above lends support to my impression that Mondays are lousy transitional days, though. "On Mondays, we're just getting caught up." All day?

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Time Management Tuesday: The Write Jar As Motivator

I was able to sneak onto Blogger this morning and check my e-mail, but I'm having trouble getting other places on-line. (The new modem is here in the house. We're hoping to get it out of the package tomorrow.) I'm cobbling this post together with the help of my iPhone, which can zip me around the Internet.

I heard about write jars at the 10-Minute Novelist Facebook page. Vickie S. Miller's blog post What's Your Reward? #Writejar describes how it works. Write jars are similar to swear jars or any other kind of system you create to either fine yourself for a behavior you want to avoid (swearing) or pay yourself for a behavior you want to encourage (writing).

I believe that in the case of write jars, this would be considered an external support for willpower. You're using something outside yourself, a money reward, to help you stay on task. (Timers are also external supports.)  I'm not aware of any research on how well monetary support works, and given my crippling Internet problems this week, I'm not going to be able to hunt for any. That will be another blog post. Vickie had only been using a write jar for a couple of weeks at the time of her post, so we won't know for a while how it ends up working for her.

If I were going to try this, I think I would use a simpler system than Vickie is. Keeping track of the different cash amounts for the different types of writing would be unwieldy for me. But like anything else related to managing time, everyone should fine tune systems to suit their own needs.

This Week's Most Interesting Ditched Item 

 

I just tried to upload a picture relating to my October purge, but that's not going to be happening. But it was a Swiss cowbell. I kid you not. We had a Swiss cowbell here. Brought back from the Land of Heidi by in-laws a few decades back. I mention that because I want to make sure everyone knows that I wasn't responsible for bringing it into this country, just into my house. I was able to unload it on my sister-in-law. 

Edit: Yes! The new modem has returned us to our normal mediocre Internet access! So I am able to present you with the cowbell that is no longer in my house. I would  hate to run into the cow that was able to wear this thing around its neck.