By
Lisabet Sarai
Our
Grip topic for the next fortnight is “Weaknesses”. Now, there are
a lot of ways one can interpret this (like most of our topics), but
as is often the case, I’ll consider the most obvious: personal
weaknesses, bad habits or character flaws.
Of
course I have many—don’t we all?—but there’s one that seems
to have become all too prominent recently. I have a low tolerance for
stress, particularly stress induced by over-commitment. I absolutely
hate the feeling of pressure that comes from having too many tasks to
complete in what seems like too little time. I’ve been known to
throw literal tantrums when faced with apparently impossible
deadlines, screaming, crying, banging my fists on the table, tearing
at my hair, hitting my head against the wall... Really, I’m not
exaggerating. Fortunately, I don’t go to these extremes too often,
but I’ve given myself sore throats and lumps on the skull in the
past after allowing my panic to gain ascendancy. My poor husband
(who’s much better at coping with stress than I am) tries to help,
but I know he’s wondering just how his intelligent, competent
partner suddenly became a shrieking madwoman.
I
think I’ve always had this weakness, even as a kid. I’ve
attempted to compensate by starting assignments early and planning my
time well in advance. Through four years of college and four of
graduate school, I never once did an “all-nighter”, nor did I
ever turn in an assignment late. This wasn’t a reflection of
virtue, but rather, of terror at the way I knew I’d react if I
wasn’t on top of all my work.
The
strategies I’ve employed throughout my life still function
reasonably well. These days I have tasks in so many different
realms—teaching,
research, consulting, writing, editing, reviewing, marketing, and
more. If I didn’t have a detailed to-do list, and a pretty clear
vision of when I was going to tackle what, I’d drive myself (and my
DH) crazy. I also try to set priorities. Marketing always comes last,
for example. That’s partly because I know that no matter how much I
do, it won’t make much difference!
Unfortunately,
I have another weakness that tends to exacerbate the first: I can’t
say no. When someone asks if I will take on some task or project, my
first inclination is almost always to agree. Indeed, when I see the
need for some work, I’m perpetually tempted to volunteer my time
and effort—even if
nobody has asked. I want to be helpful, especially in cases where I
think a task is important. And I know, honestly, that I can do a
better job than many other people who might agree, half-heartedly, to
take on some work. Furthermore, exactly because I’m so terrified
about not fulfilling my commitments, I know that I, at least, will
get it done...somehow.
Like
most weaknesses, this one’s a problem only when it manifests to
excess. I believe that, in moderation, my willingness to make
commitments is a desirable trait. (I see far too many people who
expect that someone else will be responsible for solving all their
problems.) My concern about following through is also a positive
trait. There are few things worse than depending on someone else to
get something important done, then having them drop the ball.
However,
I’ve learned that I need to sit on myself, to refrain from raising
my hand, to avoid putting myself in a position where I’ll have
another tantrum. I need to remind myself that I have a finite number
of hours in the day and also that my relationship with my DH is more
important than any task that might beckon. When I go ballistic, as
I’ve described above, it hurts him. I really don’t want to do
that.
This
week, I’ve already squelched a bunch of ambitious plans I was
thinking about proposing: editing a new Coming Together book,
offering a crit of a new author friend’s story, creating a set of
trailers for all my books so that I can build a You Tube channel...
The list goes on. My to-do list looks more manageable today than it
usually does. I have to remind myself that’s not an excuse to take
on more work.
Still,
I’m so very tempted by that latest call for submission...
No.
No. No, no, no.
That’s
so difficult for me to say.
