I'm Not The Best Predictor of The Day Ahead -- Case In Point, the Other Day
- stephaniewilson
- Oct 14
- 5 min read
I woke up in recoil. Oh no. This day's going to be the WOAT.
I was so certain of it that I wouldn’t allow myself to descend further into fatalistic thinking. I flipped the switch. Only one option: grind through, no catastrophizing, just do it. It’s a muted grit that refuses to notice the challenge or internally comment on it. Going through the motions is another way of saying it, I suppose.
I had a busy day ahead, with clear goals I needed and wanted to nail, but I got the worst (woat) sleep. I’ve done many long-distance running races on zero sleep — not bad sleep, but zero sleep. I’ve lived plenty of days on horrible sleep and trudged through. But just because I’ve survived it before doesn’t mean I want to have to do it again.
I got out of bed and showered. Might as well go through the torturous day squeaky clean. The shower perked me up, and I gathered my backpack and coffee and headed over to a local library where I’d “body-double” with a coaching client. This is when you work in the presence of others to improve initiation and completion of work. You can do it in person or virtually.
I’ve met in person with a few of my local clients at a library to work on our own things while keeping each other company, which can be a gold mine in terms of encouragement and accountability. Plus, it’s fun. At least it is for me.
We arrived, said our hellos, opened laptops, and got at it. I worried at this point whether I’d be able to focus, or stay focused. I had writing to do, some research, and a slide deck for a presentation to tend to. I sipped my coffee in optimism despite my certainty about the day’s rating: F.
I was making progress, and soon my client had to leave to tend to a pre-arranged commitment. He’d be back soon, but until then, I’d be a laptop babysitter, which meant I couldn’t easily run to my car and eat the lunch I brought with me, as our time at the library was going to span mealtime.
No worries. I smuggled in enough protein bars to feed everyone in the library — as one should — so I munched quietly on a bar or two. It was plenty to stave off hunger and keep my brain churning out remarkably productive work. My blindness to the day started to fade because it was becoming clear I might not need such psychological padding from the day. The day hadn’t been a sinkhole of struggle yet. Oddly, it was a lovely experience.
After my client returned, we whispered a few humorous and authentic exchanges across the table with each other. It was heartening, and at times, had me laughing — silently, of course. This was a library.
My work was going well, and gradually I checked my to-do list off, one by one. I was thrilled, which was the opposite of my expectation for the day when my eyes first opened, when I moaned with great pessimism.
After saying goodbye to my client, I drove home, cheerful and grateful. I was tired, no doubt about that, but I was also quite positive. I changed into walking clothes and headed out for a walk in the optimal temperature we’ve had around here lately — another point of gratitude.
I was rambling along, listening to my tunes, when I noticed something sizable and white in the woods. Normally, the woods register via my optic nerve as anything in the green or brown color palette. Not white. I moved closer to see. There were three deer standing next to a white deer. A white deer? I studied it keenly to make sure it wasn’t a goat. It wasn’t. It wouldn’t have been.
I went to knock on the nearby door of someone I knew. I couldn’t wait to show them. As he opened the door, I put my finger to my lips, as in, shhh, be quiet, don’t disturb what’s to my left. I pointed to the left of his house.
He pulled open the door, and before I could say anything, he said, “What? Do you see the albino deer?”
How did he know? I laughed, he laughed, and then he told me everything he knew about the little creature.
I continued my walk after taking whatever photos the deer would allow before bolting. I ran into a lady I knew from my walks. “Wait’ll you see this,” I told her. I took my phone out and clicked over to the photo of the deer. But before I could load the photo, she said, “Did you see the albino deer?”
I burst out laughing again. It was a combination of the hilarity of these interactions and the thrill of seeing my first albino deer that sent me home in the best mood. I was awfully happy for a sleep-deprived person who was sure the day would be an abject failure.
Rounding the corner to my house, I reached into my mailbox to grab the mail. There was a letter addressed to me from the Department of Motor Vehicles. What could it be? I opened it and gasped.
My Real ID! For those reading this from outside the U.S., we’re switching to a new form of ID. It’s been in the works for years, and now the final deadline for switching your current ID to the new form is early next year. Would I have normally waited until the last minute? I think the answer to that deserves its own cartoon.
A few weeks ago, for some unknown cosmic reason, I drove to the DMV and went through the rather easy process of applying for the new ID — months before I needed to. It arrived in the mail on the day that was supposed to crash and burn. It topped the day off, which was fitting. I was elated with my heroic act of tackling the ID application process in a way that would be positive for me rather than negative.
I settled in for the night, filled with satisfaction for the day I’d just been gifted. I searched online to learn more about albino deer and discovered what I saw in the woods wasn’t albino, but a piebald deer. It’s rare, and I’ve seen it two more times on my walks now. I talk to it. It stares.
I learned a useful and clear fact. I am not one to consult on whether the day before me should be thrown in the trash. For the most part, days are keepers, opportunities, providers of unforeseen gifts.
To my next horrible night of sleep: come if you must, but you’re no longer a prophecy of doom.
In the meantime, I’ll make progress on work, talk to people, share insights, laugh, say hi to my favorite deer — because I can.
My new favorite deer:
Have a nice week, all. Hope you're doing well.
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