A sleepless night and a day of lists.
Headache, lousy cramps, hot and uncomfortable, I was tossing and turning for hours. And the cat couldn't sleep either. She wanted snacks at midnight. She wanted to go out and watch the pouring rain from the porch at 2:30. She wanted to daintily slurp water from the bathroom sink faucet at 4 am. I was up every hour in between taking aspirin, getting another glass of water, opening the window, shuffling around. But mostly flopping and twisting in the sheets, wheels spinning about how much extra work I have ahead of me this year and fretting that I either can't get it done, or that actually getting it done will kill me.
This morning, I'm just tired. It will all work out fine, it always does. I'm busily working on lists in order to get organized, focus and stay on track. And hack away at some more things I wanted to get done this weekend.
Yes, I'm one of those neurotic list makers. I would make lists of which lists to make. Can't function without them. Invariably I leave the grocery one at home when I go to the store, and then I only come home with half of what I actually needed. I'm not sure what any of this says about me. Don't tell me. It's probably a sure sign of crazy and I don't want to know. It just helps me function. And doing this whole business myself, with so many aspects to keep track of at once, if I didn't write it down and keep copious notes in my calendars, all kinds of things would fall through through the continent-sized gaps in my short term memory.
Ok, then. I've crossed this blog item off my list. What's next?
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