Opening the book…
A day packed to the edges has no room to absorb the ordinary surprises that always come. The late train, the longer conversation, the thing that breaks. Without margin, every small delay becomes a small emergency, and I arrive everywhere frayed. I have found that the space I leave empty is not wasted; it is what lets me meet the day instead of chasing it.
I stopped booking things back to back. I leave gaps between commitments and I plan for fewer hours than the day technically holds. When I estimate how long something will take, I add a little, because I am usually wrong in the hopeful direction. The empty slots are where I catch my breath and think.
There are seasons — a deadline, a newborn, a crisis — when margin simply isn't available. That is survivable for a while. Just don't let the emergency pace quietly become your normal one.