The Real Cost of Working in Three Directions at Once

My wife prides herself on being a strong multitasker, and I get it.
She can handle her job, coach soccer, keep the laundry moving, and remember all the small things that keep our home running.

Every now and then she’ll text me mid-day with something I need to follow up on.
I’ll reply, “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

She knows the line that gets me.

“I am. I’m just multitasking.”

For the longest time, that was the goal.

Much of my career has been built by holding multiple projects at the same time. In health professions education, it’s almost the default. Teaching, administrative work, committees, advising, scholarship, and often some form of clinical responsibility all run in parallel.

Then you leave work. There are kids’ activities, dinner, home logistics, and responsibilities that never show up on the calendar. The week fills quickly. You’re not trying to do too much for the sake of it. You’re just trying to do good work and still be present for the people you love.

There have been several times when I’ve looked at my calendar and thought, “This is fine.” But when it was time for me to take action, a cold reality would set in. 

What I failed to realize at the time was that the problem wasn’t my calendar. It was the constant restarting.

A few weeks ago, I woke up early to outline my January article. I didn’t need the perfect draft, but I did need some structure before the day started pulling me in different directions.

I opened the document and stared at the blank section titles. As I looked at the screen, I told myself I would start with the opener.

Then a committee email came in overnight. It wasn’t urgent, but it had a deadline attached to it. I answered it quickly so it wouldn’t hang over me.

After that I remembered a colleague had asked me to review a speaking proposal that still needed to be finished. It felt manageable and something I could finish quickly and feel better about the day.

It didn’t take long for my screen to look like a snapshot of my mental state: email open, a half-written document, and a proposal waiting for edits.

Forty minutes passed and the outline had only two section titles a half page of text. I found myself rereading the same paragraph twice because my attention kept wandering.

While my calendar may have looked planned, the truth is my attention was split.

I found that working in three directions at once was draining more energy than any packed calendar ever did.

Most people talk about multitasking as a time problem. However, I think it’s also an attention problem.

Every switch we make comes with a hidden cost. Momentum drops. The train of thought gets lost. Even when the task is small, it takes real effort to reenter the work. When you do that enough times, the day turns into a series of restarts.

That’s why someone can stay busy all day and still feel behind.

This hits harder in the mid-career years because the load is heavier and the stakes are real. There is simply more responsibility, less breathing room, and fewer quiet blocks to recover.

And the switching can look responsible. Quick replies. Fast pivots. Staying available. Keep things moving. Sometimes it even earns praise from the outside.

But the cost shows up later.

Decisions pile up because you can’t think clearly when three tabs are open. You’re in a meeting but still replaying the email you should have sent an hour ago. The evenings even feel demanding because nothing feels finished.

I’ve felt all of that. For a long time, I thought the answer was more discipline. Work harder. Push through. Stay up later.

The reality was simpler. My attention was being pulled in too many directions, and my week didn’t have a strong enough system to hold it.

My struggle with the morning writing was one clear example, but it wasn’t the only one. I started noticing the same pattern in parts of my week where the work is never “done.”

In academia, it is easy to treat meetings like something running in the background. Sometimes you listen and contribute but the inbox is always open and your mind drifts onto the next thing.

Guilty. I did that for years.

Then the meeting would end and I’d realize I missed something important. It was usually a small detail buried in a long discussion. I’d send a quick follow up to confirm what I heard, which created more work.

The meeting itself ended at 1pm, but I was still thinking about it in the evening.

The solution was pretty simple. I shut my laptop and stayed in the meeting while making some notes. Granted the meeting still took an hour, but I didn’t spend another 20 minutes later trying to remember what I agreed to.

Writing is an activity that needs my focused attention. When I bounce back and forth, I lose my place and spend time reorienting instead of writing. I start rereading and “warming up” again instead of writing the next sentence.

This is where AI can help without becoming the point of the work.

Later that morning, I paused and typed a short list of what I wanted the article to cover. I included a few main points with a couple of examples. Then I asked AI one simple question: “Sort these into a clean structure and suggest section titles.”

AI didn’t write the article or replace my voice. It just gave me a clearer starting point, so I wasn’t starting over from scratch.

Ten minutes later I had a clean outline to guide me. I wrote the first section in 25 minutes instead of starting at a blank page.

Multitasking isn’t always the enemy. Parenting requires it. Some roles demand it. Some days are simply full.

The problem is when switching becomes the default way you work.

I look for three early signals now.

The first is a full calendar with very little finished work. That usually means my attention is divided among different tasks.

Another is too much unfinished work in my head. The common culprits for me are half-finished drafts, unanswered emails and small tasks that feel more urgent than they should. This causes my decisions to slow down and the week to feel reactive.

The third is “checking” instead of doing. These are activities like refreshing email, opening Slack, or scrolling one more time. It feels harmless, but it’s often the doorway into the next switch.

When I see those signals, I don’t try to force more effort. I return to a pattern that protects my attention and helps me finish the work.

Pick one task that shows up every week. Mine include grading, documentation, email follow-up, meeting notes, or planning.

Choose one block of time and keep it realistic. I aim for 25 to 45 minutes depending on the task. Your goal is to protect it the same way you would protect a meeting you cannot miss.

Before you start, close everything else. That includes putting the phone down.

When the block ends, write a short handoff note so you can return without starting over. I use two or three bullet points: where I stopped, what’s next and the first sentence I’ll write when I return. If you use AI, let it help clarify that note.

Then stop. Remember the goal isn’t doing more. It’s to finish one small piece of work without dividing your attention. The quality usually improves and gives you some time back in the week.

I still get the text from my wife some afternoons. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be working?’

Now I can say: I am. Just one thing at a time.

That January article? I finished it in three focused blocks instead of scattered hours. Saved about 90 minutes and felt better about the work.

Some weeks don’t need more effort. They need one clear block at a time.