It Must be December
I told myself I wouldn't post when I was grouchy, which explains why I haven't posted in a month. But, frankly, I'm beginning to suspect I'll never post again if I keep this rule in place. So - feel free to scroll past.
Every morning, the first thing I do is make a to-do list for the day. I am realistic about it. I know how many hours are in a day and approx how much I can expect to accomplish. And every evening, I have been able to cross-off every item on that list. I should feel accomplished, some sense of achievement. But I am just treading water. There is not time for things I had hoped to be able to do. There is not time for things that are optional. I have not properly - or at all - read my flist since before Thanksgiving. And because I have things which will fill my daily to-do list that still need doing, I don't expect this to change until after the new year. I have not sent cards to friends because I want to write a letter, I have not drawn those caricatures because I don't have enough time to do them for everyone, I have not written the holiday fic I wanted to write as a special gift to a friend. I am tired and stretched too thin. And this line keeps playing over and over in my head: There is never enough time to do or say all the things that we would wish. The thing is to try to do as much as you can in the time that you have. Remember Scrooge, time is short, and suddenly, you're not here any more.
Every morning, the first thing I do is make a to-do list for the day. I am realistic about it. I know how many hours are in a day and approx how much I can expect to accomplish. And every evening, I have been able to cross-off every item on that list. I should feel accomplished, some sense of achievement. But I am just treading water. There is not time for things I had hoped to be able to do. There is not time for things that are optional. I have not properly - or at all - read my flist since before Thanksgiving. And because I have things which will fill my daily to-do list that still need doing, I don't expect this to change until after the new year. I have not sent cards to friends because I want to write a letter, I have not drawn those caricatures because I don't have enough time to do them for everyone, I have not written the holiday fic I wanted to write as a special gift to a friend. I am tired and stretched too thin. And this line keeps playing over and over in my head: There is never enough time to do or say all the things that we would wish. The thing is to try to do as much as you can in the time that you have. Remember Scrooge, time is short, and suddenly, you're not here any more.