Slacker Reward

”It's 10:00 AM,” said she. “They got this to you late; they can't possibly expect you to make all these changes in four hours.” With that, one of my creative directors handed me a folder and some sound advice. Rather than e-mail the team to postpone our meeting, or point out that I wouldn't have everything ready, I took her advice as a challenge. I may have nodded to the woman, but like John Locke, I was thinking, “Don't tell me what I can't do!” Then I opened the folder.

Printouts had returned to me after three or perhaps five people in other departments had reviewed them. Some people used different colored ink, but in many cases I had to rely on either handwriting or dialogue to differentiate who wrote what. If there was a question in black ink and a response in black ink, I knew it came from two different people(or someone answering his or her own inquiry). Four hours wasn't enough time, especially since I needed to eat lunch. I dove in nonetheless, because that's who I am.

Parts of my brain shut down. I focused, checking things off in orange, the one color no one else had used. I folded each page as I went, to keep track of my progress. By lunch time, with three pages to go in a stack of well over 20, I was visited by a marketer with corrections on a separate flyer from a previous assignment I thought I had finished. “I'm so glad I caught you! I thought everyone would be at lunch now!” I kept working, she never wondered why I might still be at my desk at 1 PM, and proceeded to talk to me about her project. I switched gears, made the changes, told her where the printer was, and resumed the first project without breaking a sweat.

Meanwhile, upon noticing that I hadn't taken her advice, the creative director who'd dropped off the folders sent an e-mail on my behalf letting everyone know I wouldn't be done because they got the changes to me so late. This arrived as I finished everything and started printing. Fifteen minutes before the meeting, the main person who needed to check the changes sent an e-mail saying she wouldn't be at the meeting and could review the flyers later in the afternoon. I'd worked at a breakneck pace, and through lunch, for absolutely no reason.

It sounds familiar, especially to those who know me, but there was a method to my madness. Any other time, I might have taken a more realistic approach, taken the time I needed and even finished things the next day. But in this instance, there was no next day. With a four day weekend and at least two vacation days that I couldn't carry over to 2008, I had extended it to six days. No, once I left on Thursday night, I would not return until the following Thursday morning. I can't remember the last time I went six consecutive days without working; I'm pretty sure that in the past 11 years, five days was my longest vacation. My superiors are both realistic and understanding, and if things go a day or two late due to circumstances outside our department, while they might appreciate heroics, they don't expect or require it. I would have waited a day if I could, but a week was out of the question. And with things resolved to the best of my ability, I can forget the grind. I've finally earned the reward of slacking for more than two or three days.

Of course, I still have a few minor presents to buy, and then there's wrapping, and I probably should help my folks decorate the tree whenever they get around to putting one up. It won't all be slacking, but nothing on my to-do list is going to fill up a full six days(he typed, instantly twisting probability in ways he would no doubt soon discover...)