The "Perfect" Day to Work
A few of the excuses I use to avoid getting the work done.
Photo: A wall with hundreds of multi-colored post-its featuring phrases like “Shake the Dust”, “Be Happy”, “Come back to N.Y. to enjoy” & “I’ll be epic!”.
Today I should do the work.
Through the windows of my apartment and on the other side of the river is Manhattan at dawn. As the morning grows, warm light burns through the glass, and the apartment bakes in the sun. I sweat.
But swirling in the courtyard is bitter cold air. Opening the door to the balcony, a sharp draft overtakes the living room. The apartment frosts over with the admission of a foreign wind. I shiver.
What backward kind of day is this? Bright and warm by the look of it, bitter and cold by the touch. A day that looks lovely on the outside but stings a bit in truth.
A Tuesday.
Is this a day for the work? No. I hate to be cold. I can’t do the work when I’m cold.
Rather, it should be a warm day - but not sunny. It should be gray and wet. Humid, thundering, and sweaty. Thick raindrops smacking the asphalt and lightning shocking eggshell-painted walls. Dark clouds demand the lights be on at 2 in the afternoon but it is still hot because I cannot work in the cold. And we sweat through our shirts.
Is that a day for the work? No. I like to sweat but I can’t sweat and do the work.
And friends should be doing nothing. No park or beach, cocktails, museum tours, or shows. Family remains indoors, resting quietly with Netflix, TV, and popcorn. They are joyful and smile to be home at 2 in the afternoon but it is still boring because I cannot work in when something exciting is happening. And we ponder, each alone in our places.
Is that a day for the work? No. I need to focus but I can’t do the work in silence.
Gather in a space is what we should do. A big group from which to be inspired, motivated, and challenged. Baristas refill coffees and oatmilk, blueberry muffins, or doodle cookies with cinnamon. We can focus and push to be ‘gether at 2 in the afternoon but it is not too loud because I get distracted easily. And we can’t find the wifi password.
Is that a day for the work? No. I don’t need it but I also can’t do the work without wifi.
It’s far too easy to be overwhelmed by all the options. We should all have a break, a vacation, or a nap. Exeunt possibilities and it’s almost as if everyone ceases to exist entirely. We can take a pause and rest at 2 in the afternoon but not for too long because I am scared of losing the inspiration. And we sleep as if we do not even exist.
Is that a day for the work? No. The work doesn’t exist without me and I don’t exist without the work.
And then one day 57th street is an empty, eerie place.
New York City is closed. America is closed. The world is closed.
And the indulgent procrastinatory patterns of our days are interrupted.
And perspective is changed because if we are not sick or helping those who are, there is supposed to be nothing happening.
There will come a time when this small era - The Time of Nothings - is known as the only moment in generations with an almost global pause. Where there was an almost worldly attention on just one thing. And our descendants will ask how we were able to survive physically and emotionally. What did we do with our days of Nothings to prepare for the days after Nothings?
What did we do when there was supposed to be nothing to do, or to miss out on, or to compete for, or to catch up with? When there was no option but to imagine a more beautiful or at least marginally life.
Perhaps today is the day for the work after all. To heal, to grow, to mourn, and to rest. To write, to dream, cry it out. To play, to bathe, to open the windows. To clean, to call, to say fuck it. To quit, to apply, to publish unedited. To kiss, to run, to clean the shower.
Is this a day for the work?
Or shall we wait for the next Summer in all of its thunder and perspiration?
Or true winter, when finally, hopefully, white covers the grass?
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Felt some heart pangs reading this 💕