strict deadlines
Each and every week my intention is to post on Wednesday. Or at least by Thursday. Then sometimes it ends up being Friday—the very latest. But Wednesday is my official, firm posting day. The week before last, I missed my very strict deadline of Wednesday. Also Thursday. And then also Friday. I am nothing if not utterly clear about my commitments. And then I didn’t post for another Wednesday, Thursday or Friday. Also another Wednesday and Thursday. See how this strict deadline thing works? Exactly. It’s Friday and here is the blog post right on schedule. See? Another strict deadline I have is for Talking Underwater which is due to the publisher on March 1 which is my excuse for not blogging more regularly. It may not be the perfect excuse but it’s all I’ve got.
organizing systems
I’ve been thinking that maybe if I could surmise the perfect organizing system, then I could keep it all going and my strict deadlines will be unfailingly met. I have tried many-a system. Date books, daily and weekly planners, apps on my Mac, apps on my Mac that pair with my iPhone, notebooks with lines, notebooks without lines, 8.5 x 11 binders, 5.5 x 8.5 binders, pieces of scrap paper in a pile with crap written all over them. These were all supposed to to make my life completely organized. Can you guess whether or not they did? But I have discovered that the perfect system is accepting that there is no perfect system. Nothing’s gonna rein this shit in. But I do find that making lists soothes me so I created a printable to-do list. It’s sorted into things to do right away, things to do soon and things to do eventually. I can revise my lists any time. I also use a printable blank monthly calendar, one I can screw all up by accident and then print out a fresh one and make it pretty again! I use this one, but if you don't like it, there are tons on the world wide web. I can’t figure out everything for you.
socks
Socks used to make me absolutely mental. If ever I were to find a single sock and not its buddy, I would go batshit nuts looking for it. And muttering. Lots of muttering about how no one but me cared about the socks. The knowledge of the lost sock would weigh on me, unsettling me until it was located. But seriously—if I don’t care about the socks, who’s going to care about the socks? You know who? I’ll tell you: NO ONE. And if all the socks go missing, then what? What the hell are we going to do then? What will happen if there are no more socks? Target as well as several other trustworthy retailers carry brand new socks. But that is not the point. What is the point? I don’t remember. I just really hate it when socks get lost. Oh, I just remembered my point: I’ve decided to stop going mental about socks. It’s just not worth it. I feel like Buddha.
weird stuff around my house
What do you think is happening on the couch? Whatever it is, it certainly has captivated their attention. I hope it ends peacefully. I don’t really like that couch but I hate war.
These photos are only weird because the room is so clean. It's because my kids were away for a few days with my parents. The room will look like this next pic within 2 hours of their return. They are maniacs. But in a good way.
This is the snow in my yard. *SIGH* That is a octagonal picnic table. It might be hexagonal. I can't remember. It’s not weird, it’s just ENOUGH ALREADY!! Not the table—the snow.
Have a very happy Friday!
*****************************************************************************************************************Find my novel, The Mosquito Hours, on Amazon, Barnes & Noble or order it directly from the publisher. And don’t forget your local independent bookstore! And would you like to stay up-to-date on news about my books as well as have my latest blog posts conveniently delivered to your inbox? Then subscribe to my newsletter! Click on that little box right over there on the right. See how easy I made that for you? (You’re welcome.)