A dear friend asked me the other day, “Kristen, how is your writing going?” It was a fair question, especially for a woman like me who loves to talk. In college I majored in Public Policy and International Affairs mostly so I could learn how to give a diplomatic, clear response to nearly any question.
This question about my writing, however, sucker punched my guilty core and made me stumble over my words. How is my writing going? Well, it really hasn’t been going anywhere. The thoughts are incessantly swirling in my mind, but my brain has failed to file its word dump on too many occasions to count. I have about 10 open articles I’m working on simultaneously, none of them nearing completion.
Why the lull though? There are countless excuses and roadblocks I have created, but the simplest response has placed me in a human trap category I absolutely loathe: I AM SOOOOOOO BUSY! You’re probably busy too, right? And so is she. And so is he. Wait, they are too. But what about them?
If there is one thing all humans have in common—in addition to our vital need for food, water and waste excretion—it’s that we are all SO busy. Not only are we busy, we have this incessant need to tell each other just how busy we are. We humans are so busy it hurts! I’m serious here…it literally pains me.
We brim with pride over the uniqueness of our human species, but we’re not really that unique. We are all having the same conversation. It’s happening on the phone, in the office break room, in the aisles of the grocery store, on the playground, you name the location, but this is what’s universally said:
Person 1: “Hi! How are you?”
Pause, often accompanied by a deep sigh.
Person 2: “BUSY. It has been so crazy [for me, for us, for the kids…].”
To the everyman/everywoman playing role #2, you leave person #1 with one response. A head tilt and a little feigned pity. You’re lucky the feigned pity isn’t rage because who isn’t busy? It’s not about how many kids we have or whether we’re young or old, single or married. EVERYONE. IS. BUSY.
We’re so busy a niche market has cropped up within the self help industry. Check out these book titles:
Beyond Measure: Rescuing an Overscheduled, Overtested, Underestimated Generation
The Over-Scheduled Child: Avoiding the Hyper-Parenting Trap
When You’re Running on Empty: Hope and Help for the Over-Scheduled Woman
Too Busy for Your Own Good: Get More Done in Less Time
Breaking Up with Busy: Real-Life Solutions for Overscheduled Women
Breathe Mama Breathe: 5-Minute Mindfulness for Busy Moms
There’s even children’s books like Over-Scheduled Andrew
Why do we do this to ourselves? And why have we done this to poor little Andrew above? Give the kid a break even if you won’t take one yourself!
Being busy is not some kind of Jobian blight that has come upon us. Didn’t we happen to IT? Didn’t we choose IT? We can certainly change IT. Gasp! But some of us don’t want to sever our relationship with busy. We like talking about our friend busy so much that we have turned it into a competitive sport. If we optimize efficiency, we increase output…yada, yada, yada. We have in-demand everything and Instant Pots that solve all. In our haste to be busy we may just outsource mankind into oblivion if we’re not careful.
I’ll tell you one thing our friend busy has done that really gets me. She has raised a huge crop of DFWCs. Oh wait, that acronym happened in my head, not out loud. Let me explain. DFWC—pronounced DIF-WICK—is a Designated Friend Who Complains. You have at least one (many more if you’re really honest). These are the busiest people of all. No joke. They mic-drop on all the busy contests. Is anything ever right with these people? Your DFWC is the friend whose kid gets into Harvard and while she takes the credit, she complains about her massive hang nail, the dog groomer going rogue and how her Harvard kid just got assigned to the worst dorm. Are things ever good with these people?
Enough ranting about them, let’s get back to us somewhat normal people and ending our relationship with busy (and maybe with the DFWCs too). We choose. Embrace busy if you want to be busy and try to enjoy it. If you want to take a break, slow down and do just that. Let’s just stop talking about it like it’s a condition or some kind of disease. It’s insensitive and lacks any compassion for those people that wish they could choose busy over lonely, or busy over being sick, among many other weighty, uncontrollable things.
Let’s break the pattern—you and me.
Ditch busy. S/he’s not really that into you or me.