the reverse 'to do list'
why it feels like you're always playing catch up
i’m running out of time.
what if i don’t make it?
stop. don’t go there, tadzio.
pull it together.
focus.
though this sounds like a riveting episode of 24, it’s not.
just another day in the life of tadz.
see, each day i begin the day in debt.
racing against the clock to get through my to-do list, just so i can get back to 0 before the clock strikes 5.
oliver burkeman calls this productivity debt1.
the vague sense that i’m falling behind. that i need to claw my way back to a minimum standard just to… justify my existence?
i tell myself, if i have a really good day, free of distraction, i might be able to pay off the debt, get out of overdraft and back to zero.
but that never happens.
so who’s the asshole running up my AMEX bill?
ahh, yes, that would be… tadz of tomorrow.
thanks pal.
tadz of tomorrow thinks he’s doing us a favor. he’s working to create a better future. he’s all about becoming.
but tadz of today would like to enjoy… today.
he’s just trying to be, man.
unfortunately, they share a to-do list.
though it’s really a “should-do list”.
and there’s no limit to the number of things he “should do”.
whether it’s career ambitions, or the desire to make the world a tiny bit better— infinite scroll newsfeeds and rungs on the career ladder make the number of things we can potentially do in a day infinite.
this puts us in a pickle.
though the number of things we could do is infinite, we are very much finite beings.
we all gunna die. even bryan johnson.
finite beings + an infinitely long to-do list = problem
FAST… no quick maths
(answer at the bottom of essay)
with our limited time, there’s no way we can do everything.
yet, we still try.
which is why you can get to the end of a day, having absolutely hammered your to-do list, a la davis clarke2, and still feel like you haven’t done enough.
here’s the issue: we have unrealistic expectations.
the bar was too high. in fact, the bar wasn’t even defined.
it’s always 5 steps ahead of you.
like a mirage, you’re tricked into thinking you’re about to arrive at the oasis, but it never comes, always just out of reach.
just put in a few extra hours today to get ahead and tomorrow you’ll enjoy a break.
this is the lie that tadz of tomorrow tells me. it’s no wonder i have trust issues.
what to do?
we need to define the goalposts so they can’t keep inching back.
we need constraints.
3 strategies
editor’s note: please for the love of god do not try to adopt all 3 of these at once. choose one and try it for a month. i’ve gotten the most mileage out of the first two methods, but YMMV.
strategy 1: the three 3s method
no more endless to-do list.
today you only have 9 slots on your list.
that’s going to require some decision-making. trade-offs. embrace em.
here’s what your list looks like:
3 important tasks
3 maintenance tasks
3 small tasks
that’s it. choose wisely.
i recommend starting with the important tasks first thing. as the saying goes, eat the frog first. also, you’ll have nature’s adderall on your side.
strategy 2: the timer method
okay, we’ve limited the number of things on our to-do list.
next, we need to limit the amount of time we’re allowed to work.
you already do this, but the timeframe is wayyy too big.
we say: i work between 9am and 5pm.
that’s crazy. there’s no way you’re effectively using your time.
so instead i crunch my timeframe. by A LOT.
each day i set two timers on my computer.
90 minutes each.
a total of 3 hours.
that’s all i’m allowed to spend working on client work.
sounds crazy, huh?
to be fair, i’ve been slipping. but when i do stick to it, WOW. it’s incredible.
here’s why:
i CRANK during those 90 minute sessions. they force me to focus. distractions are off menu. after all, i only have 180 minutes to get a day’s worth of work done.
no room to pussyfoot.
since i’ve set that as my quota for the day — tadz of today and tadz of tomorrow are in alignment. when those 180 minutes are up, tadz is released from his duties.
that constitutes a successful day—because we’ve defined it.
strategy 3: the done list
as you cross things off your three 3s list — write them down on your done list.
a to-do list functions on subtraction—each time you do something, you cross out the task… closing the gap between you and a finished to-do list.
but what’s a finished to-do list, really?
it’s 0.
they’re a reminder of the debt we’re in.
didn’t manage to cross off 2 items from your to-do list?
you’re ending the day at -2.
not quite, try again tomorrow.
what a pitiful way to live. and yet that’s how i live. fuck.
contrast that with a done list.
it starts at 0. blank.
with each thing you do (you can count “made coffee” if you want, i won’t tell), you’re making a positive deposit (+1), versus an interest payment (-1).
as burkeman notes,
each entry is a cheering reminder that you could after all, have spend the day doing nothing constructive, yet look what you did!
how about maintenance?
ahhh maintenance… my frenemy.
doing a maintenance task feels like an interest payment (-1). something you have to do to stay alive.
but i’m trying to embrace them. shift it from a have-to-do, to a get-to-do.
lately, i’ve been trying to view maintenance as an act of creative expression. repair as a way of making the whole, more whole.
it’s preparation for the adventure ahead.
example: i go to the dentist so that my teeth are prepared to go to battle with brat’s3 charred sourdough... last summer we lost the battle and i chipped a tooth. this summer, i’ll be prepared.
answer: 4,000 weeks (also the title of oliver burkeman’s book—a must for any type-A psycho like me)
that’s roughly how long you’ll live, provided you're lucky enough to die of natural causes.
at 28, i’ve got just 2,524 left. yikes.
i’ll take a second order of the sourdough, thank you!
oliver burkeman: what if you're already on top of things?