1. Figure out your transition time.
Last summer, J and I were forever stressed because I'd be getting home from work so late. The hours there were very flexible.
I'd set myself a "get going" alarm for 5:45 pm, because 6 is a good time to leave. But I'd only get going by like... 6:45. I was frustrated with myself that I took 45 minutes more to wrap up than I wanted to. J was frustrated that I promised to leave 45 minutes before I did. Finally, J suggested, "It looks like you need an hour of transition time."
Transition time is a magical word. Our ADD brains seem to be really good at switching from one thought to another, usually a lot more frequently than we want them to, and without our control. But for switching to totally different types of activities, it's like the Ned Hallowell metaphor. Our brains are racecars with bad brakes. We build up a lot of momentum, then need a long time to slow down enough that we can go in a different direction.
I was expecting my brain to be able to turn on a dime after giving it 15 minutes. But I could have looked at my real timing trends (first noticed the time at 5:45, leave by 6:45) and seen that I needed an hour.
Ever since J blurted that out, I have set myself an alarm for about an hour before I need to leave from work. I snooze it, every eight minutes, as I continue to work - but every new interruption is a reminder that Time To Go is coming up soon. Usually, an hour or hour-and-fifteen after the alarm starts going, I am ready to go.
I do this for my office job. For my work-from-home job, everyone else is "gone" (offline) pretty quickly after quitting time, and the projects I get are all short-term, so there's not as much danger of getting wrapped up in something big and working too late on it.
If I have an important appointment, I also like to set that alarm early enough to remind myself, "Hey, you've gotta be OUT THE DOOR at x time, and READY TO GO about 10 minutes before that." Because honestly, I'm never actually READY when I think I'm ready. I check my purse to see that I've got my phone and keys. I realize I'd rather have a jacket today. I need one last drink of water. And so on.
So, figure out how long it REALLY takes from thinking about changing tasks until you actually can completely leave one task alone for the new one. Then, don't make any judgements. Just set a reminder that starts at the beginning of your transition time, and gently pulls you farther and farther away until you're ready, naturally.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Changing behavior: The points game
Somewhere on the road, I picked up some annoying behaviors. And some of then I've had all along.
Stuff like: instead of saying I wanted J to do something, I'd ask him if HE wanted do to it. Easy example, in the mornings: "Do you want to take your shower now?" (Translation: I think you should take your shower now.)
Stuff like: he would be ready for bed, teeth brushed and all, and I'd tell him, "I'm coming, wait up for me!" Then taking ten minutes to half an hour for me to wrap up whatever I was doing before I even started to change into PJs. This would delay his bedtime by 45 minutes most nights.
Stuff like: my first instinct being to disagree with everything he says before I listen to it Because I have this thing about, like, needing to be right and needing to be the only one who's right and needing to be the one who has the best right idea. Which means shutting out good ideas from other people. Which is a sucky way to be a participant in the human race, in that I make it hard for myself to cooperate with other people.
Anyhow.
ADD PROBLEM:
Annoying and persistent but minor habits. Stuff I say "wrong".
ADD ANSWER:
Make it into a game with achievable goals and personalized reward levels.
In order to shift these little habits, I made them into a game. I estimated how many times in a day I might ask J "do you want to" and came to 2-3 times a day, and rounded it to 20 for a week.
Then I made a goal. Every time I consciously DIDN'T say "Do you want to," I'd get a point. Every time I slipped and it came out, I'd lose half a point.
If I earned 15 points in a week, I got to splurge on a few fun juices at lunchtime or a bath. Both of which are things I enjoy. That's the goal here - finding things I enjoy that seem appropriate for the level of achievement.
The bedtime game was even more fun. I made that one into a race.
If I was first into bed five nights in a row, I earned myself a back rub (which J volunteered to give). If I lost the race one night, the count reset. But if I won three back rubs in a row - these didn't all have to be back-to-back, so it was 3 x 5 nights, not 15 nights straight - if I got those 3 x 5 nights, instead of the third back rub, I earned myself a fun book. An urban-fantasy series called the Dresden Files were just the thing - I find the books very fun, they cost less than ten bucks, and each one entertained me for a good week, plus countless rereadings afterwards. Yup, I'm into that kind of thing! This was appropriate to my achievement, because I'd spent 15 nights doing good, so now I earned myself several hours of enjoyment and reward. Get what I'm saying?
It was also great that J was eager to participate. He sometimes made it into a playful race. Sometimes I did lose. And I also had the option to opt out if I was doing something very interesting or wasn't tired yet. BUT, I had to opt out in advance, not once the race had started.
After a few months, I'd a) read my way through the Dresden Files and b) started going to bed earlier as a routine, not a hassle.
That's how it worked!
Stuff like: instead of saying I wanted J to do something, I'd ask him if HE wanted do to it. Easy example, in the mornings: "Do you want to take your shower now?" (Translation: I think you should take your shower now.)
Stuff like: he would be ready for bed, teeth brushed and all, and I'd tell him, "I'm coming, wait up for me!" Then taking ten minutes to half an hour for me to wrap up whatever I was doing before I even started to change into PJs. This would delay his bedtime by 45 minutes most nights.
Stuff like: my first instinct being to disagree with everything he says before I listen to it Because I have this thing about, like, needing to be right and needing to be the only one who's right and needing to be the one who has the best right idea. Which means shutting out good ideas from other people. Which is a sucky way to be a participant in the human race, in that I make it hard for myself to cooperate with other people.
ADD PROBLEM:
Annoying and persistent but minor habits. Stuff I say "wrong".
ADD ANSWER:
Make it into a game with achievable goals and personalized reward levels.
In order to shift these little habits, I made them into a game. I estimated how many times in a day I might ask J "do you want to" and came to 2-3 times a day, and rounded it to 20 for a week.
Then I made a goal. Every time I consciously DIDN'T say "Do you want to," I'd get a point. Every time I slipped and it came out, I'd lose half a point.
If I earned 15 points in a week, I got to splurge on a few fun juices at lunchtime or a bath. Both of which are things I enjoy. That's the goal here - finding things I enjoy that seem appropriate for the level of achievement.
The bedtime game was even more fun. I made that one into a race.
If I was first into bed five nights in a row, I earned myself a back rub (which J volunteered to give). If I lost the race one night, the count reset. But if I won three back rubs in a row - these didn't all have to be back-to-back, so it was 3 x 5 nights, not 15 nights straight - if I got those 3 x 5 nights, instead of the third back rub, I earned myself a fun book. An urban-fantasy series called the Dresden Files were just the thing - I find the books very fun, they cost less than ten bucks, and each one entertained me for a good week, plus countless rereadings afterwards. Yup, I'm into that kind of thing! This was appropriate to my achievement, because I'd spent 15 nights doing good, so now I earned myself several hours of enjoyment and reward. Get what I'm saying?
It was also great that J was eager to participate. He sometimes made it into a playful race. Sometimes I did lose. And I also had the option to opt out if I was doing something very interesting or wasn't tired yet. BUT, I had to opt out in advance, not once the race had started.
After a few months, I'd a) read my way through the Dresden Files and b) started going to bed earlier as a routine, not a hassle.
That's how it worked!
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