Archives for category: time management

I love, love, love a glass of red wine at the end of the day. But I’m skipping alcohol for the month of January.  This practice, sometimes called “drynuary” or (shudder ) “janopause” has had some negative press lately. They say stopping drinking and then starting again can be a shock to the liver.

I’m certainly not going to engage in “catch-up” drinking for the rest of the year, as the study suggests some people do. Sometimes I abstain from alcohol in the summer months too. But In February, I will go back to my nightly glass of Malbec with a heightened sense of appreciation.

In addition to savoring wine more after a dry spell, I like to take a drinking break because it’s part of a nightly ritual that can make me feel unproductive. We all need downtime, and I’m often too spent at the end of any day to do much more than cook something and plop down in front of the television with a glass of wine.

So maybe this month I plop down in front of the television with a cup of tea instead, but maybe not. Maybe I’ll have the mental energy to fool around with some of the art supplies I got for Christmas, or work on a little writing, or do some reading, and let the television sit silently in its corner.

I think this is a brilliant blog post by Michael Gass, in which he includes not watching television during the week in his “not to do” list.

What would be on your “not to do” list?

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A few weeks ago I made a shepherd’s pie for a potluck supper. (It wasn’t Alton Brown’s recipe, but I’m a fan of his, so that’s what I’ve linked to here.)

I wanted to use the leftover gravy from a pot roast I’d cooked earlier that week, so I rummaged in my fridge until I found a container of brown, viscous stuff and poured it in. As it blended with the meat and vegetables, I noticed that the texture was a little grainy, but I didn’t think twice about it.

I didn’t think twice because I was in that white heat mode of hurry, ticking off task after task, my internal engine revving as if I had downed six cups of coffee. This I s a feeling I’ve had all too often in the fundraising office, and one that fellow blogger Janet Levine rants about here.

Later, at dinner, my husband commented that there was a sweet taste to the dish he didn’t recognize. I’d eaten a scoop myself but was so distracted by the conversation that my eating was not as, well, mindful as we’re told it should be.

I tried some of the pie again; he was right. And then I realized that in my hurry, instead of mixing the filling with gravy, I’d mixed it with the applesauce I’d made wth the last of the bag of utility apples from the orchard up the road.

None of my friends mentioned that my food tasted funny. It did, eventually, get eaten. It was … okay. But I know that if I’d taken the time to do it right, the casserole would have been a whole lot better. Next time I’m faced with competing priorities, I’ll remember my inadvertent, applesauce shepherd’s pie.