"THE FINE PRINT", by Michael Schrader

IT'S A MATTER OF TIME

(Written under the pseudonym “George Steinkrueger”. Published 6 November 1996 in the Neighborhood Journal. Posted in toto with Preface and Epilogue 13 March 2002.)

PREFACE -- This was one of my numerous swan soongs. Because of the extreme pain in my knee, I was even more grumpy and cantankerous than usual. I had decided at this point to publish my own neighborhood newsletter, the Community Banner, and did not feel I could adequately serve two masters. Besides, the Banner had an exclusive on George’s pearls of wisdom.

Time. The most precious commodity. It seems like I never have enough of it.

What then, to do when you have more things to do then there are hours in the day to do it? One approach is to get less sleep. However, I have found that to lead to a degradation of health. It would work great if we adopted the "siesta" and afternoon naps were considered acceptable by management. I won't lose any sleep over that possibility.

The second approach is to prioritize. To my wife, the highest priority is for me to finish plastering the bathroom that I started working on in February. It is now November, and the only improvement I have made is the installation of new lighting, an exhaust fan, and an outlet. Other than that, nada.

The problem is that the bathroom is not a high priority for me. In fact, it's turns out to be pretty low. Not intentionally; it just kind of happens that way. What really galls my wife is that, to her at least, my highest priority is napping. I married a very smart woman; she's onto me. That is my highest priority.

She likes to say that the best way to describe her husband is "slothlike." This prioritization of naps is not planned; it's a result of lifestyle choices. I use the "sleep deprivation" method of time management.

Because of this time management strategy, I find myself drinking lots of coffee and napping. No not OR; AND. I am one of those people that has the unique gift to be able to drink leaded, caffeinated coffee and then immediately go to sleep.

Of course, this proves to be a curse when I'm driving. With the exception of Hardee's, I have yet to find a coffee that can keep me awake when I get tired. Which is of course why I rarely drive very far (more than a couple of miles) after about 10 p.m. When you drive from Newport to Little Rock but have absolutely no recollection of driving from Newport to Little Rock, that is a good indication that you really don't need to be driving late at night. This is just one of the reasons why I have no desire to be a truck driver.

Part of the problem is that my "sleep deprivation" seems to be perpetual. No matter how hard I try, it seems that I cannot get to bed before midnight, even though just about every morning (including weekends) I have to be somewhere by eight. So, every night I don't get enough sleep.

Of course, I do get my catnaps in, my to the annoyance of my ever patient spouse. It's part of my nightly ritual to fall asleep on the couch and then, upon awakening, ask my wife for the synopsis of the TV show that I just slept through. Or, I will wake long enough to change the channel, and then drift back off into peaceful slumber. Of course, I don't tell her that I'm sleeping. I'm either thinking or resting my eyes. And being a man, I'm moronic enough to think that she actually believes that bull.

You're probably wondering why I'm a rambling on about my sleep deprivation. Have I lost my sanity? Perhaps. Am I experiencing a hallucinogenic sleep deprivation-induced episode? Perhaps. After all, it is after 1 a.m. when I am writing this.

Which is, of course, the reason why I am discussing this topic. I should be in my nice warm bed right now; instead, I am typing on a computer. At least this week I am relatively cognizant; I fell asleep midway through last week's column, only to wake up and have absolutely no idea where my train of thought was going. Apparently, that train derailed somewhere before my station; I ended up scrapping what I had written and starting over. While it was by no means one of my better columns (and it was awfully short, too), given the fact that it was written at 2:30 in the morning, it could have been a lot worse.

Lately, it seems that I should have been born an octopus, as I have hands in many different pots. Between family and neighbors, my cup runneth over. Throw in work, and now I'm having to mop up the floor. The only problem is I don't have enough time to mop!

I have decided to make a very tough decision. The decision is this: this will be my last weekly column. It's not that I don't enjoy writing, because I do. It's not a problem with the management, because it isn't. They are very fine people. Frankly, it's a matter of time, or the lack thereof.

But, don't be disheartened. I will still be writing a column, albeit a much shorter one and only bi-weekly. (But, probably not for this newspaper, unless you want me to.) I have decided to concentrate my time on my family and my neighbors (work is a given), and will be writing for a small bi-weekly publication close to home. Hopefully, this should help me kill the proverbial two birds with one stone. At the very least, it will ease my time crunch, if only just a smidgen.

If you have e-mail and would like to comment about this column (or anything else for that matter), I can be reached at commbann@aol.com. Or, for those without e-mail, I can be contacted through the business office of this newspaper.

Good-bye, and thanks for reading.

EPILOGUE -- Like Michael Jordan, my retirement didn’t last long. I was back at it again within two months. I published four issues of the Banner before calling it quits, and returning to my normal life as a weekly columnist.

I still have my time crunch, by the way. Four kids, a wife, law school, and a business will do that to you. I have learned how to manage it better.

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