Today I need to talk to myself about doing what needs to be done.
It's my own fault that I have no morning, afternoon or evening left.
I take responsibility for that. I made the mistake(s).
And, judging from my inability to commit to blocking off some time,
I will probably make this sort of mistake again and again
until the consequences become too hard to bear.
At which point I'll stop. Or die. Either way.
But here is how it is going to work:
I'm going to stop by St. Matthews and see if I can get my stuff from Beit Jala.
This morning I am going to pick up Bob and take him for coffee.
I need to mail the Just Eating stuff to Bill Metcalf.
I am going to call the ink place and either get the cartridge I need or not.
Deal with it.
I'm having lunch with Keith at Fiesta. That's at 12.
Load the tables in the car and get them to DCPH by 4.
Put up the Christmas tree.
Cry a little bit.
You know what won't get done on this list? The windows. The Christmas tree. The crying. Oh. And the vacuuming won't get done either. And making a decent dinner didn't even get on the list.
Time marches on. Properly chastened, I begin my day.