The Latest Life Tweak

I started a new routine with my work-from-home job this past week, and I hope it sticks and is not one of those efforts that seem revolutionary for a few days, only to join the sad pile of past epiphanies.

Because this is a game changer.

It's simple: I work through lunch. That's it. No lunch hour. My daughter became defensive for me when she heard this: "But you still eat, right?" Yes, I still eat. But now I just go downstairs, assemble and zap my food, and then get right back up to the computer and resume emailing, setting up a Google Classroom, making progress on a report due in a month, or continuing whatever project I'm knocking out right then (okay, "knocking out" is a strong phrase for what I do).

With this small adjustment of attacking my job in one sitting, I can: a.) work a third more daily hours than I normally churn out; b.) stop doing a daily minimum and feeling like I wasted gobs of time when off the clock; c.) be more productive in those 5-6 hours; d.) avoid turning a 20-hour week into a 60-hour week (that takes talent); e.) be freed up in the late afternoon and evening and weekends and holidays, and don't have work hanging over me at all times--but can do a little more if I'm so inclined; f.) watch TV guilt-free with my husband in the evenings; g.) generate more income; h.) have a life.

I managed this new approach successfully twice last week. I do make exceptions for an afternoon break to take a walk and do a chore, but NO LUNCH.

All this is actually a nice way of saying that I cannot catch up on Ricochet and "check" Facebook at noon while I eat. But that sounds so much harder and more demanding than saying "Oh yeah, I work through lunch every day." Because I often do not merely catch up on Ricochet, check Facebook, or tackle my personal e-mail. Instead, I become glued to my chair and fall into a hole from which I do not emerge for . . . longer than I'm willing to say. There's always something urgent, interesting, or important that I must do or write or read that prevents me from resuming my job. Add to that a pit an afternoon walk and a chore, and I'm getting back to my work late in the afternoon.

And it's fine to break up my day that way, I tell myself. Research says that our brains weren't made to concentrate on something for more than an hour and a half or two hours, that we're supposed to take breaks. But I'm also supposed to be doing other things in my life that are worthwhile during that time off work—exercising, cleaning house, calling relatives. Not scrolling pictures of gorgeous antique dresses and other museum pieces on my Facebook feed (the algorithm has my number), clicking on a combative comment section under the announcement of the latest local car accident, or getting involved in a discussion on Ricochet. If I could limit my relaxation to thirty or forty minutes, that would be fine. Unfortunately, as I have proven time and time again, there's a hole on my computer screen that draws me in, and I am compressed into a speck that is indistinguishable from the Internet.

If I want to break up the day with my schedule adjustment, now that I've become wise to my own ways, I just need to switch up job tasks. Right now at work, there are several interesting projects happening at once. And that's what concerns me. What if I only pulled off those two days of high productivity last week because work is hopping right now—I'm getting emails with requests, having meetings, creating a flyer, and helping a teacher with details of class. That state of constant interaction is when I am at my best, and the weeks when I'm actually at the work site, I do an eight-plus hour day with no problem at all, no matter how little sleep I got or how tedious the chart I'm supposed to build. However, my job always ebbs and flows, and one week I'm perched on the crest of a wave looking down at how lazy I was before I got everything figured out, and the next I've crashed down and find myself once again in the heat and ennui of the home office doldrums.

I'm hoping, though, that after two decades in this position, after so much trial and error and years of daily lunch pits, I've finally made the life tweak that will make all the difference for my family, my work contribution, and myself. It was lovely to have an evening or two off last week. I watched TV and read a book on the back deck—deliberately, not as a distraction. I did simple activities I really wanted to do but couldn't because my time management is messed up.

I'll let you know how it goes. I'm also interested in hearing about any small adjustments that have yielded a large return on investment for your life.