Designed this way, the word 'crunch' remains fun! Image by Suzanne Barber
With ninety minutes to spare before getting picked up for game night, I did more within that hour and a half than I had accomplished ALL DAY. I am surprisingly efficient when the minutes are ticking away. Not only did I wash dirty dishes, but I dried and shelved them, cleaned the countertops, changed out the dish towels, mopped the floor, and brought the trash and recycling out. I showered and dressed, wrote some holiday cards and wrapped two small presents. To most of you this may not be a big deal, but I once disclosed in my post here, how very inept I tend to be in the housekeeping department. In a time crunch, on the other hand, I am able to empty the dryer, sort, fold, hang, and put away laundry, beginning to end, within a fifteen minute window better than if I were given an open ended hour or two at another point. Sometimes with too much time and too much leeway, I run around like a crazed preschooler. Why do I rely on the crunch? What is the appeal of the crunch?I remember when crunch was a grand, decadent word. It used to make me think of comic book graphics, of the Cap’n, of chocolate covered vanilla ice cream bars, of Cinnamon Toast cereal… *sigh*
Crunch tells me it’s time for business. Crunch forces me to decide if the thing at hand is meaningful enough to take care of. Crunch runs my decision making through the Eisenhower Matrix, throwing the urgent and important quadrant residents at my face full force. I almost see crunch time as my to do list’s death bed. This is it. It’s time, am I going to bring it? Now, crunch is a word that holds quite different connotations: time crunch, budget crunch, and that dreaded word I hear in my head when I lay down on a gym mat to do abs. *double sigh*
Why I wait until needing to milk any event’s last ten minutes for all it’s worth is quite the mystery. Do you have a love/ hate relationship with the crunch too?