Kicking ass and taking names, AKA productivity

I've been making an effort to journal regularly for the past couple of years, for two main reasons. First, it's a good way to process what's going on in my life - putting things on paper usually makes them feel more manageable. Second, I find reading back through my most recent entries every month or so to be very helpful in doing some introspection. For example, when most of my entries for a significant length of time contain some variation of "I'm so tired and I hate my life," that's a warning sign of depression, and means I should really talk to someone about how I'm feeling.

Lately, according to my most recent survey of my journal, I've been very focused on whether my day was productive or not. The vast majority of my entries from the last six weeks are either listing my accomplishments or bemoaning how much time I wasted, expressing pleasure at a job well done or annoyance at life getting in the way of my plans. (This, by the way, is a noticeable transition from the previous few months, where I got so tired of writing about being tired and exhausted that I mostly just listed the TV I'd watched in a vain attempt to make myself happy. Thankfully, we're past that for the moment.)

I'll admit, I was a little surprised to find myself focusing so much on productivity - I guess Trevor is starting to rub off on me, or maybe it's all those hours of lecturing on economics! In all seriousness, though, given how happily unproductive I've been in the past, it seemed advisable to give proper consideration to this shift in my thinking. After some thought, I've concluded that being more concerned with using my time productively is both a good thing and a bad thing.

The good: Given how unmotivated I'm often inclined to be, there's something to be said for a desire to use my time wisely and well, rather than squandering it on internet quizzes and mindless games. This is particularly true now that I have a job, with all the responsibilities and expectations which go along with being a professor. Being intentional about productivity during the day is thus more necessary than it was previously, especially if I want to have time available in the evenings for social events and for the husband.

The bad: When I'm depressed, I frequently don't have the mental energy to be as productive as I would like to be. There are days when simple things like getting dressed, making food, and caring for the pets take all my energy, and plans for grading or shopping or laundry go out the window. Measuring my days by the things I accomplish is great, until I get that sinking sense of failure when doing the best I can with the energy I have doesn't seem like enough.

I think there's a middle ground in there somewhere, though, where a concern for using my time well is matched with an understanding that sometimes, a productive day is one where I put on pants, eat food, and am kind to my husband. Distinguishing between being patient with myself and being lazy can be a challenge, but it's a crucial piece of finding a good balance in my expectations for productivity day to day. And someday, maybe I'll actually achieve that balance on a regular basis - that would be an accomplishment well worth recording in my journal!

New dimensions of depth: A reading update

I've been reading quite a lot this year, even in the midst of all the busyness of professorial life. Reviewing, on the other hand, has taken a bit of a back seat. Thus, I actually finished my thirtieth book for the year over a week ago, but only just got caught up on documenting my reactions and thoughts.

For those who only want to hit the highlights, the nonfiction books I'd most recommend would be American Like Me (a collection of essays by first-generation Americans), and The Girl Who Smiled Beads (a memoir of growing up as a war refugee in Africa and then the US). For fiction, my favorites were The Hobbit (every reread makes me love it more), Signs Preceding the End of the World (a powerful tale of borders and crossings), and Six of Crows (a heist story set in a fantasy universe).

16. The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien

This is the book that I credit with truly making me a reader. As such, it holds a special place in my heart, and reading it always brings me joy. I love journey stories in general, where the events serve as a catalyst for the characters to grow into themselves, and The Hobbit is a perfect example of that. I also love the world Tolkien created, and the clever storytelling, and basically everything about this book, to be honest. It is without a doubt one of my very favorite books of all time.   My rating: 10/10

17. Nest, by Esther Ehrlich

Sometimes first person really works for me in books for kids, especially if the younger narrator actually sounds like a kid. This book does an excellent job with that, especially when it comes to how kids think about and deal with bad stuff in the world. I do feel like the book needed a few more details on the front flap so that I knew better what I was getting into, though - I was prepared to handle a mom who was sick, and possibly even died, but I wasn't prepared for exactly how things played out. Let's just say the book should come with content warnings for depression and suicidal ideations - heavy stuff for a middle-grade book.   My rating: 7/10

18. Signs Preceding the End of the World, by Yuri Herrera

This was a beautifully written book, and I'm a little sad that I don't know Spanish and thus can't read it as it was originally written, even though the translator apparently put a lot of work into retaining the feel and flow of the original text. At just over one hundred pages long, it doesn't waste any words, and thus ends up being a very powerful story about moving between worlds. Given everything that's going on regarding immigration right now, I think this book is an wonderful example of the way fiction can contribute to understanding of and conversation about real-world issues.   My rating: 9/10