UNLV Connections: Word from the Interactive Measurement Group

Planned Imperfection

by Kimberly A. Barchard Issue 23: Spring 2024

A raised sign alongside a road and trees is colored in white with red lettering saying I stood in front of the bookshelf, looking at the binders. Each was 2 or 3 inches thick, but they varied in color: some red, some blue, one green, many black. Any faculty member who wanted a raise had to submit a binder detailing their accomplishments. Nearly everyone wanted a raise and so there were two rows of binders. Thousands of pages. My job – and the job of other members of the committee – was to read these binders and recommend raises based upon each person’s achievements. In one week. It was an impossible task.

I was honored to have been elected to this committee, to have been entrusted with such important decisions, working alongside senior and esteemed colleagues. I wanted to do a good job. But how?

This was the first time in my life when it was clearly impossible to do all of my work. Up until that point, I always imagined that if I just worked harder and was more efficient, I would be able to do everything. Then, when I didn’t get all my work done, I thought it was my fault – that I was inferior, that I wasn’t as smart, hard-working, or efficient as my peers. But this time, it would clearly be impossible for me to do all that new work in addition to all my usual tasks. Therefore, I realized I should make deliberate choices about how to spend my limited time. If I didn’t, I would unthinkingly spend time on less important things and consequently fail to complete some of the more important ones. And so I canceled some meetings that week, chose to grade an assignment in three days instead of one, and read enough of those thousands of pages to have a good sense of my colleagues’ accomplishments so that I could make solid contributions to the committee work. At the end of the week, I was tired but satisfied.

A few years later, I was again faced with an impossible workload for a short period of time. A bit later, it happened again. Each time, I have condensed my to-do list by identifying some tasks I could (a) not do, (b) do later, (c) do poorly, or (d) delegate to someone else. For example, this week I turned down a request to review an article, scheduled some work for Friday rather than doing it right away, gave my dog shorter walks than he and I would both prefer, and asked my lab manager to create a meeting agenda. These choices helped me carve out time to focus on what was most important in the moment, so I could maintain my concentration and focus, do high quality work, and still get a good night’s rest in order to tackle the most important tasks for the next day.

When I tell people that I select tasks to not do, do later, do poorly, or delegate, they inevitably ask me how I decide. However, I don’t do this deliberately. I’ll be looking at a task on my to-do list and feeling frazzled and overwhelmed, when a thought suddenly pops into my head: Maybe I’ll wonder if I could do it later, or I’ll consider if I have to do it at all. This isn’t a systematic process: I don’t list all four options.

Consider “Pick up prescription,” a task that sat on my to-do list for several days. Glancing down at my list and seeing that task still there, I thought “Could I get my husband to pick it up?” I considered that option. Yeah, maybe I could. And so I asked. He said he had to pick up a prescription for himself anyway, and yeah, he could pick it up. And then, after very little work on my part, the prescription miraculously showed up on the kitchen counter that evening.

Consider “Recover tape dispenser.” I had taken my tape down to the computer lab, but forgotten to bring it back up. Recovering it wasn’t a high priority, so I didn’t do it immediately. Instead, I wrote this task on my to-do list. The next day, I saw the task. But it wasn’t a high priority, and so I didn’t do it immediately. The next day. And the next week. And the next month. It remained on my to-do list, adding to the chaos and frazzlement. Finally, one day, I took a moment to stare at that task. Did I really have to do it? Could I just cross it off, consign my tape dispenser to nostalgic history (ah yes, I remember when I used to own a tape dispenser…). No, I decided, I couldn’t. I wanted my tape dispenser. I really hoped it was still there. But recovering it wasn’t a high priority, so I once again chose to “do it later”. And then, just the next day, I was walking by the computer lab and realized I could stop in. There, clearly visible on the front desk, was my tape dispenser. I joyously recovered it, took it back to my office, and placed it on its proper shelf. Finally, after several weeks, I crossed “recover tape dispenser” off my list.

You will face this situation. There will be times in your life when you have too much work. At those times, it won’t actually be possible for you to do all of your work to the same standards as you would normally hold yourself to. Don’t feel bad about it. Instead, do the best you can and be proud of managing a difficult situation pretty well. To help yourself find time for the most important tasks, consider if there are some tasks you could (a) not do, (b) do later, (c) do poorly, or (d) delegate to someone else. When you can’t be perfect, plan how you will be imperfect.


Kimberly A. BarchardKimberly A. Barchard is a Professor in the Department of Psychology at UNLV and is the Director of the Interactive Measurement Group. She works to empower lab members to accomplish their personal and professional goals, particularly through the development of leadership, research, and organizational skills.