Yesterday I decided to tackle some tasks, a little of this and a little of that. When the sun started to set, I realized I’d been at it for hours. And while I got quite a lot done, you couldn’t really tell from the looks of things.
I had pulled out a plethora of tools and was searching the interwebs for tips on things I had never done (re-keying a lock, for example). Based on all the clean-up I had to do, you’d have thought I’d rebuilt a danged wall or something.
Some jobs (and some days) are like that. You put your time in, and then you look around and you don’t find much to show for all your work. Don’t get me wrong. I love getting shit done. For me, it’s what I imagine a runner’s high to be like. I mean, I get giddy and excited and absolutely thrilled when I accomplish things. It just tends to help if I can see the fruits of my labors.
Oh well. I still got a lot done. And I’m still giddy about it. In fact, I may have done a little dance in celebration of all my work. Who am I kidding? You know I did a dance.