Day 24: oops

It was around 9 AM this morning when I realised I hadn’t sent out an email yesterday.

It wasn’t laziness or tiredness or illness; I just forgot. Straight forgot. Which is odd; getting this email out is very important to me, and I was absolutely determined not to miss a single one.

I was annoyed at myself for a bit, but on reflection I think I’ve figured out why I did it.

Our habits are often functions of our environment. If we’re in the same place we will tend to do (roughly) the same things. And, as it turns out, I was not at home. I was in a hotel with the family, out of town for an event. The event took place at night and required me to be on for several hours, making copious physical and mental notes, and when I got back I was both very tired and my head was full of the event and the story I’m supposed to write about it. It chased any thoughts of the newsletter clean away; I didn’t even think of my daily email obligation while dropping off to sleep — usually primetime for stray “oh God I was meant to do this” thoughts — and it didn’t occur to me until later the following morning.

This effect works in other ways. For instance, this is why taking a walk can help you stop feeling stuck, why you sometimes feel fresher after tidying a workspace, and why you can get a whole host of stuff done in a cafe or a hotel lobby when it seemed utterly impossible at your usual place of work. A change can be as good as a rest. Or it can just make you forget about obligations altogether.

It’s also a useful reminder that all-or-nothing is not always a useful frame of mind. Would I prefer not to have forgotten about something I place a lot of importance and pride in? Of course. Is 23 days out of 24 a rather larger number than 0 days out of 24? Somewhat needless to say, yes. I have been a perfectionist since age 4, when putting a line of place on a colouring-in made me feel like the whole piece was ruined, and I can still feel that anguished child’s scream[^1] echoing through my whole being when I mess something — anything — up. But then I think of my little boy, who has picked up some of his dad’s perfectionist tendencies, and how much I want him to be okay with making mistakes, not least because trying and failing is a lot better than not trying so to avoid failure. I think I’m helping him be better with it, and that is helping me.

Also I had drunk several drinks, for which I am paying a small but noticeable price today. Hangovers after 40, man. Oof.

[^1]: I am told this is not an exaggeration. I took colouring in seriously.