The spread

Today's rain was so miserable. The entire day never got lighter than late evening. The wind pelted the rain straight into your face and ears while you dashed from the car to the door. And the puddles are really building up around here. More like Lake Michigan in some intersections. Yuck.

So I was fretting all day long about how there's never enough daylight, never enough time in the day, not enough soap, not enough lip balm, not enough not enough. And it's all because I've spread myself too thin. Again. What would it feel like to actually spread myself a bit thicker? Do only one show each week, maybe two, and really get to do it the way I would like to do it, instead of slap dash, mad dash, barely squeeking it in.

Deadlines and last minute scrambles usually produce some of my best brainstorms. Unfortunately, I can never take action on those genius ideas because I'm so busy frantically finishing what I've already got on my plate. And later on, it either doesn't matter any more, or things have moved on and it's meaningless, or I've forgotten all about it. It's a catch-22.

Gotta run, time is running out again this evening and I've still got a few hours left of tasks. Hoping to run out the door early tomorrow morning and head up to Bellingham to set up there. Zip back, pick up the missing caps and tins that somehow didn't make it into my order this morning at the bottle factory (forehead smack) and then rush back up to Snohomish for my work shift at the farm. Quick wave.