Stephen Yeargin

The time change could not have come at a better time. That extra hour last night gave flight to a productive Sunday, with a trip to church and tying up loose ends for projects at work. In addition to the minor debt owed to the inventors of Daylight Saving Time (most people today curse them as fools), I owe a much larger one to my wife. This past Thursday, as I was lying on the couch belaboring the point of feeling a bit overwhelmed with keeping up with tasks at work, she ordered me to suggested that I download Things for my work laptop and iPhone.

It is hard to say if my feeling of relative calm came about solely because of Things, but Friday felt much more productive than Thursday. I started to force myself to put a task into the application before ripping right into it, lest I become distracted halfway through it and skip right to the next one. It is the first GTD application that I have ever tried, which means that I have either never placed much faith in the methodology or I have never had the kind of workload that necessitated such an approach.

It is likely the latter conclusion. At my last job, we used and abused dotproject to keep all of our proverbial plates spinning and projects on schedule. The tasks and projects themselves were broken down into large chunks of time — add functionality to the Web site, produce a flyer, update a mailing list, etc. With my new home, there are dozens of more time sensitive sub-steps that have to happen in a particular order — return a phone call, submit scheduling request, follow-up on a bug ticket status, etc. As I described to someone earlier this week, I can manage multiple tasks at once, but my limit is four or five. That sixth one can bring the entire process to a screeching halt. My investment in a few pieces of software should help me stay on top of it better.

With work-related thoughts filling a good chunk of my brain this weekend, today’s service offered a rare pause to my racing mind. As it was All Saints Day (the day after Halloween), the entire order of service was about remembering those who had passed on in the last year, as well as the host of other “saints” that they joined. After the sermon, ribbons were hung for the two church members who had died in the last year. A third was hung in memory of family members and friends. There was still one of those who is very fresh on my mind.

Confession time: there are two things that will crush my composure faster than anything else the good Lord has put on this little blue planet. Both of them are related to music. My breath becomes short, my eyes tear up and it will take every ounce of energy I have within me to stand or sit at attention when either are played. The first is “Taps” on a trumpet, as it will bring back very vivid memories of my paternal grandfather’s military funeral. The second is any instrumental version of “Amazing Grace,” but bagpipes seemed to be the culprit today. The moment that our pastor (donning a kilt and all) hit the very first note, I was shattered.

It was a moving service in message, music and prayer. The breeze that moved through the sanctuary caused the bells on the ribbons to ring gently. I can only say that as speculation, as my eyes were turned away from them and toward the ceiling with my sockets becoming cups that I was trying desperately not to spill over. It didn’t work, and Samantha gave me a tissue. I took a bit of comfort that this loss of composure was not a failing, but had become the rule. No one that spoke for the remainder of the service did so with their most articulate and leveled voice. It was a time for broken hearts to mend anew, even if we had managed to put aside the heartbreak by focusing on our busy lives. It has given me a whole new perspective on the Monday that starts in a few hours.