This is my last work week of 2022, and it's going to be pretty dead. Our manager has asked us to refrain from making meetings, so the few that are still on the calendar are likely to be cancelled, and now that I've launched this last program there's not a whole lot to do beyond being there for the students when they need something. There are a lot of things I could be doing, like preparing my annual performance review, helping with documentation for standardizing various parts of our jobs, or doing the work now to make my January as smooth as possible. I could learn SQL, or Microsoft Excel, or dive in to my Writing Masterclass. Chances are I'll do at least some of these things. The chances are higher if I make a to-do list for the week and stick to it.
I think the smartest thing I could do would be preparing for January and working on the performance review. I intentionally kept this period light knowing a lot of folks would be coasting if they weren't taking time off, but that also means the new year will have a small crush of events to make up for it. Our students are likely to be focused on something else until the new year anyway, and if we can capture the "new year, new me" momentum, redirect it towards completing their Nanodegree, and have events to make it easy for them to dive back in -- that would be the best. That's kind of the bet I'm making, so it would be pretty nice to come correct.
This job has really made me appreciate the value of proper preparation. Things just go so much easier when you've prepared ahead of time, so when things go wrong (and they inevitably do) you don't end up freaking out. Because you've already trained your brain it's much easier to be present with whatever arises, and respond to it in a way that feels more skillful. I'm at my best when I'm prepared.
The problem is that my ADHD-brain really hates doing things ahead of time. Without the inherent pressure of a looming deadline, it can be so hard to convince my brain to do something right at that moment. Over the past year I've gotten better at it by using the "Showtime Method" -- just counting down from three and mentally going "it's showtime!", then diving in. Or by really making my Bullet Journal and to-do lists work for me. Or by making it a game that helps me get better at something specific. How fast CAN I do the food prep for dinner before cooking? Can I fold all of these clothes during ONE episode of TNG? How long will it take to hit a 500-word goal each day?
Just finding ways to make the activity interesting, or presenting little challenges to myself, keeps it all light and playful. Making work "play" might be the biggest life-hack I've started to adapt this year, and I'm looking forward to pushing that a little further next year. I'm trying to focus on systems, habits, patterns of behavior over straight-up goals. The more I fill my life with habits that bring me closer to my "ideal self", the more those goals just kind of take care of themselves.
At work, I've taken the year to get my bearings with my job. Community Management is a pretty new space in the industry, I've learned, so there's no real "right" way to do it. With our company especially, what we do is a unique version of community management. Instead of creating and nurturing permanent communities with a specific purpose, we're trying to pull off successful "flash communities" several times a year that serve towards a goal we share with every other department in the company: getting students to graduate from our courses.
The pressures are different, and there really isn't a map for this kind of work. It's been interesting learning that through the year and watching my colleagues handle those pressures with such resilience, adaptability, and good humor. I feel lucky to be a part of this team, but I'm also well aware that there were three folks who came in after me and immediately did much more to whip the team into shape. So next year is all about getting myself up to that level.
In order to do that I'm definitely going to need to be a lot more organized, and that means a LOT of forward-thinking and preparation. In some ways it feels like going back to my "gifted and talented" days in school: just keeping the work organized, doing the work in front of me to the best of my ability, focusing on making sure things are done without that time pressure. I associate that time with...well, loneliness, because I really didn't have any friends and it was easy to do the work when there was nothing else to do. But now there are so many competing demands on my time and focus and it can be so hard to feel like you're making the right choices in the moment. I think it's the commitment that I'm afraid of -- or rather, the sacrifices that come with making the commitment. In order to work the way I feel I need to, I might have to push myself and give up things that I've only been half-committed to anyway. I'm just not sure if I want to face the friction that comes with giving up those things.
It's really hard for me to set boundaries for my time, especially when it feels like I'm letting the people closest to me down. One of the reasons I didn't go back to school after my sister's death was the...strain it was causing with me and the husboo, who started feeling underappreciated. What good is an associate's degree when weighed against the most important relationship in my life? It's like that with everything.
It feels like getting good at something requires me to spend more time alone. I do that anyway, but this current alienation is all self-generated. I just get so...tired of working to relate to people, especially since that's my full-time job, that I don't have a whole lot left in the tank around the margins. Still, instead of spending time on video games and YouTube videos, I'd like to spend more of my alone time doing things that make me feel better in a deeper way.
I'm not sure what I'm saying here. Maybe I'm trying to come up with an excuse for why I don't do more things to better myself while also not letting myself off the hook for that excuse. I'm wrestling with something, but it still doesn't feel clear.
I think the smartest thing I could do would be preparing for January and working on the performance review. I intentionally kept this period light knowing a lot of folks would be coasting if they weren't taking time off, but that also means the new year will have a small crush of events to make up for it. Our students are likely to be focused on something else until the new year anyway, and if we can capture the "new year, new me" momentum, redirect it towards completing their Nanodegree, and have events to make it easy for them to dive back in -- that would be the best. That's kind of the bet I'm making, so it would be pretty nice to come correct.
This job has really made me appreciate the value of proper preparation. Things just go so much easier when you've prepared ahead of time, so when things go wrong (and they inevitably do) you don't end up freaking out. Because you've already trained your brain it's much easier to be present with whatever arises, and respond to it in a way that feels more skillful. I'm at my best when I'm prepared.
The problem is that my ADHD-brain really hates doing things ahead of time. Without the inherent pressure of a looming deadline, it can be so hard to convince my brain to do something right at that moment. Over the past year I've gotten better at it by using the "Showtime Method" -- just counting down from three and mentally going "it's showtime!", then diving in. Or by really making my Bullet Journal and to-do lists work for me. Or by making it a game that helps me get better at something specific. How fast CAN I do the food prep for dinner before cooking? Can I fold all of these clothes during ONE episode of TNG? How long will it take to hit a 500-word goal each day?
Just finding ways to make the activity interesting, or presenting little challenges to myself, keeps it all light and playful. Making work "play" might be the biggest life-hack I've started to adapt this year, and I'm looking forward to pushing that a little further next year. I'm trying to focus on systems, habits, patterns of behavior over straight-up goals. The more I fill my life with habits that bring me closer to my "ideal self", the more those goals just kind of take care of themselves.
At work, I've taken the year to get my bearings with my job. Community Management is a pretty new space in the industry, I've learned, so there's no real "right" way to do it. With our company especially, what we do is a unique version of community management. Instead of creating and nurturing permanent communities with a specific purpose, we're trying to pull off successful "flash communities" several times a year that serve towards a goal we share with every other department in the company: getting students to graduate from our courses.
The pressures are different, and there really isn't a map for this kind of work. It's been interesting learning that through the year and watching my colleagues handle those pressures with such resilience, adaptability, and good humor. I feel lucky to be a part of this team, but I'm also well aware that there were three folks who came in after me and immediately did much more to whip the team into shape. So next year is all about getting myself up to that level.
In order to do that I'm definitely going to need to be a lot more organized, and that means a LOT of forward-thinking and preparation. In some ways it feels like going back to my "gifted and talented" days in school: just keeping the work organized, doing the work in front of me to the best of my ability, focusing on making sure things are done without that time pressure. I associate that time with...well, loneliness, because I really didn't have any friends and it was easy to do the work when there was nothing else to do. But now there are so many competing demands on my time and focus and it can be so hard to feel like you're making the right choices in the moment. I think it's the commitment that I'm afraid of -- or rather, the sacrifices that come with making the commitment. In order to work the way I feel I need to, I might have to push myself and give up things that I've only been half-committed to anyway. I'm just not sure if I want to face the friction that comes with giving up those things.
It's really hard for me to set boundaries for my time, especially when it feels like I'm letting the people closest to me down. One of the reasons I didn't go back to school after my sister's death was the...strain it was causing with me and the husboo, who started feeling underappreciated. What good is an associate's degree when weighed against the most important relationship in my life? It's like that with everything.
It feels like getting good at something requires me to spend more time alone. I do that anyway, but this current alienation is all self-generated. I just get so...tired of working to relate to people, especially since that's my full-time job, that I don't have a whole lot left in the tank around the margins. Still, instead of spending time on video games and YouTube videos, I'd like to spend more of my alone time doing things that make me feel better in a deeper way.
I'm not sure what I'm saying here. Maybe I'm trying to come up with an excuse for why I don't do more things to better myself while also not letting myself off the hook for that excuse. I'm wrestling with something, but it still doesn't feel clear.