As I posted last night, on Sunday afternoon and evening I'd been feeling as though I hadn't accomplished much during the weekend. Much of this is an illusion: we've split up certain household tasks so that I'm doing stuff that can mostly be dealt with in three minutes here and five there, and cattitude
is doing stuff that gets done in larger chunks of time. He usually does those Sunday, which means that it's possible for me to notice him doing laundry, and overlook that I've been doing the dishes all week, in small chunks of time. Another piece of the puzzle was that I had deliberately set Saturday aside as a rest day, but however useful or necessary rest is, it doesn't look
like getting something done.
Part of why we have this division this way is that I like not having to set aside chunks of time for household tasks, and he prefers to be able to get stuff over with in a batch. (Another piece of it is that he really dislikes doing dishes, because it can hurt his back, and my back is better to start with.) So I need to remember, or remind myself, that I am getting things done. That the work is incremental doesn't stop the task from being accomplished. Also, it's more practical to batch laundry into a week or ten days' worth at a time, which doesn't work with dishes. Those, I load into the machine as they accumulate. I run the dishwasher at night, and do most of the unloading while waiting for the kettle to boil in the morning.
I've talked some of this over in email with Q, which may also help me remember that yes, I am doing stuff, pulling my weight, and so on.
Yesterday, I not only worked a full day, I spent my lunch hour at the bank, dealing with my new IRA. The official investment advisor wasn't there, and while the bank manager is licensed to set up the investment account, she was extremely hesitant to accept my "just put it all in a midcap fund" and insisted I talk to the investment advisor first. So we filled out paperwork, and she gave me the investment advisor's card, and made a note for her to call me when she's next in that branch. ( I will then say "no, I know what I want, do this," but I wasn't up to arguing with the bank manager about it.) There was also the fine moment when she asked for ID, and (as I reached for it) I pointed out that she shouldn't need it, because one of her staff had, unprompted, looked at me, greeted me by name, and asked what I needed. Ten years ago, I think she would have accepted that.
There was a moment at work in the late afternoon where I found myself thinking, disgustedly, that I was the first person to have actually read
parts of the manuscript I'm copyediting. I should have been at least the third: the author, and the editor who accepted it, should have read it before me. There's just a lot of the sort of careless error that can slip in when you write quickly and don't reread the material before sending it off. For example: "not all A are B" when it's actually that not all B are A, and all A are
B. (See also: why you shouldn't proofread your own work.) The editor told me it was a light reworking of a previous book; there've actually been a lot of changes and expansions. This is fine, from my viewpoint as a copyeditor and I hope the viewpoint of the state that's being offered the material, but suggests she didn't take a close look at it.
After work, I went to the gym. In the morning, I'd told Cattitude I was thinking of a short workout. He said "some say, a long workout." When I was done at the gym, I called him and said "some say, a middle-sized workout." I'm not actually good at predicting how long I'll exercise, unless there's a time constraint: I'd predicted short because my elbow had been bothering me in the morning, but skipping the gym altogether isn't good. Without a time constraint, the length of the workout will depend on how tired I'm feeling at that moment, on any random joint pains, and on how crowded the gym is.
Then I did some freelance proofreading on the way home from the gym. Conclusion the first: doing it on the way in is more practical, because I can count on a seat. I can proofread while standing on the A train, but marking the corrections is tricky. Conclusion the second: Stan Kelly-Bootle is seeing just how far he can push his copyeditor, and the English language. Conclusion the third: just because the book reviews are picked up intact from a different ACM publication doesn't mean they'll be clean. Only the first of these is new, although the book reviews are often clean copy by the time I see them, and this month decidedly weren't.( cutting the gym numbers, because this is quite long enough already )