I've been tormenting myself over the fact that I haven't been able to accomplish everything I've wanted to each day.
I had assumed that once I no longer had to punch a clock, there would be no end to the number of tasks to which I could put "paid." I could write long, insightful blogs that would make my readers laugh themselves into exhaustion. I could dive into those craft projects I've been planning since Christmas break. I could sew throw pillows for the condo and hang pictures there (really, the whole place could use a paint job, too). I had even hoped to hem that pair of white linen slacks I bought 45 days ago.
I have done none of these things.
Each night, before I go to bed, I catalog the things I want to do the following day. When bedtime rolls around again and I have done not a single thing on my list, I have two separate but related thoughts:
"Oh my gosh, is that the time?"
followed immediately by
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?"
All of which has led me to conclude the sad, sad truth: no matter how much time you have, you never have enough time. Also, it takes a long time to read all the junk on the internet.
Related: Role models and Friday night lights (out). Cause I've always been no damned good.
Image, Bobbins and Bombshells.
I had assumed that once I no longer had to punch a clock, there would be no end to the number of tasks to which I could put "paid." I could write long, insightful blogs that would make my readers laugh themselves into exhaustion. I could dive into those craft projects I've been planning since Christmas break. I could sew throw pillows for the condo and hang pictures there (really, the whole place could use a paint job, too). I had even hoped to hem that pair of white linen slacks I bought 45 days ago.
I have done none of these things.
Each night, before I go to bed, I catalog the things I want to do the following day. When bedtime rolls around again and I have done not a single thing on my list, I have two separate but related thoughts:
"Oh my gosh, is that the time?"
followed immediately by
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?"
All of which has led me to conclude the sad, sad truth: no matter how much time you have, you never have enough time. Also, it takes a long time to read all the junk on the internet.
Related: Role models and Friday night lights (out). Cause I've always been no damned good.
Image, Bobbins and Bombshells.
It's all about momentum. I've been idle for five days and I'm not worth killing right now. Clearly, if it doesn't happen by noon, it's not going to.
ReplyDeletePTSD - Post Traumatic Semester Disorder. We're in recovery, dammit.