Efficiency on its worst behavior

Yesterday efficiency was on its worst behavior. It put the idea in my head to get up at 6:30 A.M. instead of the standard 10 A.M. I obeyed.

By 10 A.M. I had already gone on an hour run/walk, with the quiet morning air rustling palm leaves and the sun twinkling gently on the river. I haven't been on a run in six months.

I had taken a shower, made breakfast, and done the dishes from the day before. I laid in the hammock in the cool morning air, reading the Bible and praying for a while.

Somewhere in the process 10 A.M. passed. I washed several loads of laundry by hand, hung them on the line, they dried, I took them off and hung more clothes on the line.

My computer refused to works as usual (it turns off at an interval of every 30 seconds most days), but I studied GRE words. When I finished, I'd narrowed down the "500 of the Hardest GRE Words" to 18. I proudly showed April, my friend, who was camped out for the weekend here to take a practice MCAT test. (Yes, I know you wish you could be here. No other house pulsates with so much life.) I resumed the Durant's 700 page tome on the Age of Napoleon ... which compelled me to take a nap. My friend Frank S. called several times throughout the day and I paced the roof chatting as sprinkles moistened my shirt from gray clouds above. I picked up my violin, ran through the scales and rehashed an Etude and technique builders.

Showers happened at frequent intervals to cool my skin from the pervasive heat.

A miracle happened. My computer turned on. And stayed on. So I edited the By-Laws for our VAC (Volunteer Advisory Committee) and sent my suggestions to the committee. I took GRE quizzes. I read emails. Responded to emails. I blogged. I read the news. All these things that intermittent shut-offs of 30 second intervals has not facilitated. I tried to Skype my sister several times to make plans for her trip to join me when I complete my service December 1. No luck.

Frank called again. It was now after 6 P.M. I had now done twice as much as I usually accomplish in two days. And it was only 6 P.M. I had the prospect of a whole evening in front of me and blustery winds to seduce me. But I would not be seduced. I had already courted the palmary for an hour that morning. I whined to Frank that I could not handle this day any longer. It was too long. If I went to visit a girlfriend, we would just sit in her house and stare, and make me feel even more restless. I paced the roof again. I paced my house. I danced to Bon Jovi. I sank to my knees to inspect little leaves pushing up through the soil in one of my pots - a wildflower mix I'm attempting to acclimate to the Saharan Desert weather.

Frank told me about the glorious thunderstorm pounding his house. I leaned out the window, breathing in violent winds, trying to appreciate the odd weather. But my body kept saying: "escape, escape!" With no where to escape to. Technically yesterday and today are Moroccan national holidays. I could have left for a four-day weekend, but I have 5 Dirhams ($0.60) to my name, and I have traveled abundantly. I head to Rabat in a few days for Close Of Service Conference anyways. So traveling was out.

I chided efficiency. He was the fool who had convinced me to wake up at 6:30 A. M. and get so much done. What a shame! That a person would accomplish a such a number of things in the stretch of one day, instead of spreading them out fairly over a week so that no day was exalted, no day left without a piddling bit to check off the list.

I started applications to the five graduate programs that I decided to apply to. I kept it up for a few hours. At 9 P.M. I decided it was time to make quiche. I went out to the corner hanut, my body breathing freedom as I left the doors of my house. The process took a while: rolling a butter crust, slow-sautéing onions and tomatoes, baking. I returned to Napoleon, curled in my hammock while savory smells seeped up the stairs. At 11 P.M. I devoured a real dinner. This always happens. No appetite all afternoon while the heat oppresses body and soul. And then in cool of the night the stomach attacks with a vengeance.

At 12:00 A.M. reveling in the cool air, I could not bid myself to retire. I had downloaded Friends, Season 3, and watched the next episode. And the next. And the next. And then Rachel and Ross were fighting.. I had to see what happened. At 1:30 A.M. my sister Tabi saw me online: "Shouldn't you be in bed..?" I gave her my lame excuse and hurried back to my hot chocolate, popcorn and Friends. By 2:20 A.M. my eyelids gave the clue and I meandered off to bed.

At 5:00 A.M. I woke at the impertinence of mosquitoes who were dining on my flesh and the heat that invaded my rest. I did what any normal person would do, watered my bed with a teapot of "cool" water (tap water in the summers would certainly be sufficient for any recipe calling for "warm water" ... or even "hot water"). I closed the curtains, smirking at the sun that threatened to sneak over the mountain in the next hour, enveloped myself and mattress with with the mosquito-net tent and sunk off into a deep sleep.

At 10:00 A.M. I lazily opened my eyes. And looked at the clock. Ahhh... 10 A.M. already. Four hours of my day already spent in luxurious slumber. Efficiency, you will have my ear no longer, I taunted. And lazily got out of bed. It's already 11:23 A.M. and I'm blogging and drinking tea. Yes, I washed a few dishes. BUT THAT'S ALL. The day promises a short existence - and my host family might even be back from vacation. A visit could equal a full evening's time!

I think I'm beginning to understand the logic of locals, who seem quite fond of their mattresses on a summer's day. No person should be expected to endure the heat and find ways to occupy themselves for twenty hours straight. Not unless they listen to that evil little voice called Efficiency.