I feel reasonably qualified to wax poetic on the nature, cultivation, and rarity of ‘free time.’ When classes are in session, I have the great luxury of having a structured schedule that requires only 15-20 hours each week of physical presence: I attend class and hold a part-time job, both of which require attendance. Otherwise, the location in which I work, study, socialize, or relax is entirely at my discretion. And, as with any academic lifestyle, there are the breaks:
- Thanksgiving (not worth noting; it has the horrific placement such that time is spent frantically finishing semester assignments, rather than getting R&R)
- Winter Holiday (at my school, it lasts approximately three weeks: enough time to catch one’s breath. As a graduate student, this break was focused primarily on preparing and submitted fellowship, scholarship, and grant applications. Staying near the uni is also desirable, as there are unparalleled resources available.)
- Spring Break (I year, desperately, for the days of when Spring Break was, really, a break. Graduate school has turned it (much like Winter) into a reprieve from strict scheduling, but mostly an opportunity to ‘catch-up,’ as it were.)
- Summer Vacation (mine is unduly long: almost exactly four months in duration)
Each summer prior to this, I have been heavily scheduled: summertime becomes an opportunity to financially make-up for some ten-months of abject poverty (holding down two-three jobs is, historically, a norm). Occasionally summer courses are an added responsiblity; fellowships and internships are wonderful, but also preclude any bit of evasion from responsibility and duty.
This summer, though, is far less stringently scheduled: I’m enrolled in an intensive language course (to study Polish) from mid-June through mid-August. Until the beginning of this, though, I am reasonably without obligation: I work a very part-time job (12 hours/week), and otherwise have the rest of my time at my disposal. With this happy situation at hand, I’ve decided that there are a host of tasks, activities, goals, and ambitions to accomplish. Though my economic situation is far from ideal (I live painfully ‘hand-to-mouth,’ as it were)
Maintaining some semblance of a fixed schedule is a priority. Without it, I tend to lapse into near-abuse of the internet (the most painful of time-sucks), and neglect any sort of growth. As such, I have compiled a small, though respectable, list of goals. They are as follows:
- Work through lesson 12 of the Yiddish textbook (Commitment: 6 hours/week)
- Re-work through lesson 9 of the Czech textbook (Commitment: 6 hours/week)
- Read 10 works in philosophy/theology/sociology (Commitment: 8 hours/week)
- Make 40 gym visits (Commitment: 12 hours/week)
- Write 20 pages in my journal (Commitment: 2 hours/week)
- Work (Commitment: 12 hours/week)
Total temporal obligation? 46. Out of 168. I’m left with 124 hours; subtracting sleep (at the rate of a generous, and optimistic, 9 hours/night), I’m left with 61 hours of time on my own each week. Frightening. Where do the hours go? …I’m honestly not sure. Presumably, I’m on the internet (maybe 20 hours/week? Terrifying!). I socialize, though this is fairly light. I take naps (or ‘doze,’ with a book butterflied on my abdomen).
Much like money (if not attentively tracked), the spending of one’s time slips quickly out of control. Accounting roughly for what one does, and where one’s attentions are directed, is important for time management. As such, my goal is to track – as closely as possible – my time usage over the next week, and post the results on May 17. Additionally, I’ll do some sort of statistical analysis (I spend x% of time engaged in y, &c), and also attempt to keep my notes as detailed and specific as possible. I have a suspicion that I will not be pleased with the results.
