The Miracle Worker Retires

Looking back on 2011 (and prior years, of course, but 2011 in particular), I realize how often I have stepped into the role of The Miracle Worker.

Someone loses track of a deadline? No problem, The Miracle Worker drops everything and rushes in to make sure the deadline is met!

Someone knows the deadline, but hasn’t bothered to do their part?  No worries, The Miracle Worker rearranges her life and completes the missing pieces!

Someone on the project bows out at a critical juncture?  Hah, it is to laugh! The Miracle Worker steps into the role, marshals the troops, finds a substitute, stays up all night, and the project proceeds on time and on track!

Over and over and over. And over and over and over.  And often spilling over into the time and life-energy of those around me.  (You could ask the DH, but he’s busy with a client emergency.  The glamor of the dual-entrepreneur marriage is vastly overstated.)

Hoping for a miracle in a tight situation – sure. It may or may not work. Expecting someone else to perform miracles because you can’t be bothered to do the minimum – not so much. There’s a reason consultants charge emergency rates – but for the projects I work on that aren’t paid by the hour, what I get is the privilege of screwing up my schedule, eating erratically, losing time for other pursuits, and missing sleep – all in an attempt to solve a problem of someone else’s creation.

The phrase “If you want something done, give it to a busy person” is true – to an extent.  But, you know, sometimes the busy person doesn’t really need One More Damn Thing To Do, but they’re so busy it doesn’t occur to them to say “sorry, not this time”. They just shift around the puzzle pieces of Things To Be Done to fit in One More Damn Thing, gulp down some more caffeine, and get back to it.

In 2011, I worked a breathtaking number of hours.  A regular 40 hour-a-week job comes to 2,080 hours per year.  Attorneys at major law firms are expected to clock at least 2,200 hours per year.  Let’s just say that last year, I’d have overachieved at a law firm.

And a lot of that time was spent working miracles and averting disasters created by the actions (or inactions) of other people.

Not this year.

This year, I am doing my work, managing my schedule, keeping track of my projects.

I expect others to do the same.

If they don’t, I am not going to let it become my problem.

The Miracle Worker will still make an occasional appearance, if *I* deem it necessary.

But The Miracle Worker as a way of life – and a way of work – has to stop.

I need time for my life. My creativity. My family and friends. For sleep.

I am going to take off holidays. Maybe even both days of some weekends, or else Monday if we have a weekend event.

When the office is closed, I won’t be here.

The Miracle Worker is off for a well-deserved rest.

And I’m off to have dinner with my husband.