I am Peanut Butter

I feel a certain sisterhood with peanut butter.  I know some people cannot relate to this, because they seem to be capable of putting 1.37 million tasks on their plate without being any worse for the wear. I, on the other hand, would spend my life an inch wide and a mile deep if I could get away with it:

I like nothing more than a day spent with a to-do list that is one-item long.  No matter how much of my attention, time, intelligence, creativity, or heart that one item needs, focusing on only one thing to do is like a breath of fresh air in this crazy-paced world we now live in.

Writing fits this bill.  It may be stressful to get started.  After all, how many awful words can you possibly say to a blank computer screen before it cooperates and words begin to appear?   I have sought the answer to this question many times over.  Once the words are finally rolling from the keyboard to the screen though, I can serenely meditate through the hours it takes to put words on paper (provided a steady stream of coffee remains nearby).

Analyzing data fits the bill too.  Even when such data is being amazingly uncooperative and accompanying code to process it seemingly uninterested in the debugging cycle, the analysis itself is still only one thing to do.  Like a few other odd folks in the world, I am quite happy to spend my day doing math, as long as the math = 1 ball up in the air at a time.

In these and a few other rare instances, I am indeed, happy peanut butter in the magical world of work.   But, once the University of Washington or some other element of the crazy world out there breaks in, the situation quickly degrades, as, like peanut butter, I am spread a little bit thinner across a larger area, to no great advantage:

No longer am I happy peanut butter, but instead am downgraded to a thinly put together affair that has obvious signs of insufficient and often sloppy resources allocated to the tasks at hand.  This situation may not be attractive but it is not so bad.  I can handle a few more things on my plate than one.  Really.

Unfortunately, the 'only a few more things to do' scenario is not at all stable.  Instead, it has a widespread reputation of snowballing into the 1.37 million things to do situation described earlier.   Then, we have trouble:

Unhappy peanut butter is not a good thing.  Someone should remind the managers of the world of this profound truism so rapid steps can be taken to alleviate the situation wherever it may arise.

Such are my deep insights for the day after the most heartbreaking Superbowl ever.  

NOTE:  No peanut butter was harmed or wasted in the production of this blog.  All materials were repurposed and donated to the Wilson Fur Facility.