The Dreaded 10%

It’s only Wednesday as I write this, but I’m sure that nothing of greater import will arise between now and Sunday. Sarah Palin could run away with Newt Gingrich (sorry, Callista) to form a blockbuster ticket and even that would not sway me from my present frame of mind. I’m talking about the infamous 10%. You know: the portion of any project that consumes 90% of the time to complete it. I’m writing this in the first person to avoid using the word “you”, but you know as well as I that you’ve been there, too.

I’m not fond of hills, other than looking at them. I don’t like running on them nor walking on them for an inordinate distance. Needless to say, I don’t care much for working on them, either. Yet I live in the Sierra foothills! My property’s topography is what a real estate agent would call “rolling”. That’s a marketing term for “you’d better get in shape, Bucko”.

And most of my hills support a variety of oak trees. Some are grand while others are gnarled, growing almost sideways in search of sunlight. Over time, I’ve taken some of these trees down. Then I cut the thinner branches, etc. off and create burn piles. This takes some time as I usually convince myself that it will be easier when the leaves die. This is a lie and I know it’s a lie when I think it. Nevertheless, I wait for a more opportune time to limb and drag into a pile.

Meanwhile, the parts of the tree destined for my firewood supply sit on the hillside awaiting some day in the dim future when they will be dragged down the hill, cut up into manageable size, and stacked properly. This portion generally amounts to that 10%. As this week’s column idea came to me, I thought it only proper that I got down on one particular hillside and drag, push, pull, throw, or carry the wood to the bottom where I could use my chain saw without fear of losing my balance or an appendage.

The problem is that when I get to this 10% of the greater project, it expands to  a 100% proposition. This allows me to negotiate with myself so I can quit, yet again, without attaining the Mission Complete merit badge. But try as I might to find a reason to quit, I saw this task through to the bitter end. Maybe because I knew I’d have to own up to yet another delay before posting this piece.

And I’m not done yet! The wood now lies at the bottom of the hill, mocking me as if it is anxious to be burned. Since my fire wood supply is dwindling and spring is not quite in the air, I fully expect to render the larger sections into wood-stove ready pieces before the week is out.

I think we all suffer from ADD when it comes to projects. Even minor household honey-do’s end up with the tools on the kitchen counter instead of back on the work bench in the garage. We’ll get to that, you know, but not right now. Maybe when we need that tool for the next project (if we can remember where we left it from the last one).

I hate that last 10%. It reminds me that no chore is ever done, no matter how hard I try. Or, to be more precise, no matter how hard I don’t try because there’s something else I need to do over here (oh, look: a squirrel!). So there you have it: the last, dreaded 10% that sometimes never gets done. And, if it does, it’s not in any kind of timely manner. Armed with this information, you’d think I could do better. I don’t. Maybe I will, but I doubt it. Maybe it’s just a law of nature. Or just one of many human failings. Either way, can any political or corporate headline trump this gem of knowledge? I think not...

(Addendum: it is now Sunday afternoon as I post this. No, the woodpile at the bottom of the hill has not been completely dealt with, but I think I’m down to the last 10%.)