Deliberate Practice and Grocery Shopping

A funny thing keeps happening to me lately. I’ll go grocery shopping, help bag my own groceries, and the cashier will make a point of thanking me. I always try to speed things along by bagging my own groceries, so I don’t know why- suddenly- the cashiers are so grateful.

I usually make my way through the store and load my cart so that it will be easy to bag the groceries later. I know I will unload the cart so that the heavy things go first (like bottles of Topo Chico), then packaged items (like trail mix), then fragile items (fresh mint in a plastic bag). I’ve done this for as long as I can remember, and I think it has to do with Therbligs. I wrote about Therbligs and the effect that the book Cheaper by the Dozen has had on me in a previous post.

Cheaper by the Dozen is about an efficiency expert who has a dozen kids and the systems their family had in place to keep things running smoothly.

A Therblig is a unit of motion or thought. Suppose a man goes into the bathroom to shave. We’ll assume that his face is all lathered and he is ready to pick up his razor. He knows where the razor is, but first he must locate it with his eye. That is “search,” the first Therblig. His eye finds it and comes to rest — that’s “find,” the second Therblig…

When Dad made a motion study, he broke down each operation into a Therblig, and then tried to reduce the time taken to perform each Therblig. Perhaps certain parts to be assembled could be painted red and others green, so as to reduce the time required for “search” and “find.” Perhaps the parts could be moved closer to the object being assembled, so as to reduce the time required for “transport loaded.”

Cheaper by the Dozen, Frank B. Gilbreth, Jr and Ernestine Gilbreth Cary

After two and half years of living in Boston, where I would have to carry my groceries all the way home, I have gotten very particular about how my grocery bags are loaded. I have a distinct memory of walking several blocks with a pasta box digging into my side. Now my goal is to carry all my groceries up two flights of stairs in one trip, so that means using as few bags as possible and distributing heavy items evenly into different bags.

I apply this kind of analysis to almost everything I do– I’ve done it for so long I’m not always aware of it! When I worked at Starbucks, my manager once said I was, “Always thinking…” because I made some comment about moving items closer to where they were needed. The best thing about working at Starbucks was that they had lots of these kind of systems in place and it was a good environment for someone like me to try to improve them.

Part of the analysis is the constant motivation to get better and more efficient at each task. I now know this mentality is called deliberate practice. I still find it strange that a book I loved as a child could have programmed me so thoroughly. Because I loved Cheaper by the Dozen, my behavior for everything I do has been shaped to find efficiency, even grocery shopping.

Bibliophile’s Quest

It’s amazing that it has taken me so long to begin this blog.  I’ve loved books my whole life.  I went to St. John’s College in Santa Fe, New Mexico, so that I could study the Great Books Program.

Since I graduated in 2005, I’ve moved to Los Angeles, back to Santa Fe, Boston, and finally: Austin.  I have lived in Austin for 4 years, but only just got my own apartment last March.  I finally have a space of my own, so I’m going to fill it with books.

This Christmas, I decided to take a week in El Paso to pack up all the books that have sat in boxes, to bring them to my little apartment in Austin, and finally set up my library.  My mom rented a Jeep for me as my Christmas present and I piled in the boxes of books:

boxes o' books
boxes o’ books

Fun facts:

1. Those Starbucks boxes have been with me since I left Santa Fe in 2007.  The very large, silver bags of coffee beans came in those boxes, we called them bullet bags.  Those boxes are the perfect size for moving, you can fill them full of books and still lift them and wrap your arms around them.  I have moved books across the country, up 2 flights of stairs, down 2 flights of stairs, up 2 flights of stairs again, down 2 flights of stairs again, and back across the country again.  I know what I’m talking about.

2. I have at least 3 copies of Jane Eyre.  I mean, when your copy is stuck in a box in El Paso and a new Jane Eyre movie comes out while you’re living in Boston, you have to buy another copy.  I can’t explain the third copy.

So now, after carrying all those books up 2 flights of stairs again (by myself–RAWR), my tiny efficiency apartment is full of boxes of books.  Time to buy some bookshelves.  To be continued…