The stopwatch and the timer

At one point in time, restoration and maintenance of the Parthenon was a high priority. (Image by Christo Anestev)

I have a terrible sense of time, so I use lots of different tools in order to manage it.

In addition to calendars and task management apps, I rely on various stopwatches and timers.

The names of these tools — stopwatches and timers — are kind of backward to me. Because when I want to time myself — when I want to see how long a task took to do when compared with my estimate — I use the stopwatch.

But when I want to stop doing something after a particular amount of time, I use a timer.

The timer actually limits how long I’ll spend on a particular thing. Ironically, now that my time has become very tight as a result of taking care of two infants (now almost six months old!), I have to carefully limit the time I spend on a given activity or type of activity.

I no longer have the luxury of being able to get most of my work done in a given day. There are a lot of important things that are likely not going to get done at all, so I have to prioritize and do only the most important.

This is tricky, though. Obviously my top priority is my children, but I still need to pay bills and do housework. I still need to eat.

And that’s where prioritization gets complicated. It’s conditional. Maybe I can skip a shower today, but I can’t skip it indefinitely. So it’s a low priority today, but it will move up the list as time goes on.

Everyone says, “Enjoy your babies. The dishes will still be there tomorrow.” Exactly. There’s no magical dish fairy to take care of them (unless you count my husband). And I’ve never been able to get that snapping trick from Mary Poppins to work. At some point, some mundane chore has to become the priority. Otherwise, my ability to take care of my babies — and myself — will be compromised.

My solution is to divide my tasks into categories and balance how much time I spend in each category in a given day or week. That means limiting the tasks in a category (through planning) and the time spent on each task (using a timer).

For example, housework might be limited to 45 minutes total, and then I can work on the highest priority tasks in that category until the time runs out.

Correspondence might be limited to 15 minutes total — a brutal triage. (That may explain why I haven’t texted or emailed you back, and I’m sorry.)

I have a backlog of incomplete tasks in every category, and that is uncomfortable. But this system ensures that I will get the bills paid, do the laundry, follow through with promises I’ve made to my clients, and continue to squeeze in a bit of creative work each week.

I prefer to hyperfocus on projects until they’re done, and I can’t do that right now. I have to wrench myself away from a given task in the same way that I have to give one baby the bum’s rush after feeding so that I can feed the other one. It feels unnatural.

But you know, dealing with these new challenges is kind of fun for a huge nerd like me. I love problem-solving, and whatever I learn from my own experience is bound to help not only me, but my clients, too.

And if there’s anything I’ve learned about time in my struggles over the years, it’s that it does go by, and all too fast. I’ll try to be as present as I can with whatever I’m doing, with the knowledge that this too shall pass. That truth is as bittersweet as ever.

Do you use timers and stopwatches in your work? What do you use them for? I’m always interested in what works for people.

And, as always, if I can help you navigate your own challenges in work and life, let me know.