I woke up at half past seven this morning, later than usual. Was up working late. Again. After spending a couple hours landscaping. Again.
Which is basically all I’ve been doing for a few weeks. The day job starts in the morning, runs all day, then continues into the late evening. Except when I take a break for a quick bite or to break my body on the landscaping out in the yard.
That project is an extension of the house move, a project which has been basically going on for two years now: from that first day we set out to “look at houses” up to last night where I banged the end of my finger with a hammer. Along the way, I’ve complained a couple times on the blog about all the house-related work, with the usual disclaimer that I can’t complain about a thing: as it’s completely and one hundred percent voluntary.
But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s soaked up a lot of time. According to my most recent Timekeeper report, I’ve spent 1,408 hours, 42 minutes, and 17 seconds on this project. By comparison, my upcoming cancer book only has 203 hours, 46 minutes, and 7 seconds logged. I try not to think of the fact that I could’ve written half a dozen books in the time spent teleporting all my belongings twenty-six miles north.
I’m looking forward to focusing again on my creative endeavors.
Any year now . . .
So I woke up at half past seven this morning, and thought, “Ugh. It’s Friday already.” That’s usually a happy day for people, but I’m just way behind on everything and need a few more days this week to cram it all in. “And I didn’t write a blog post last night,” I added, wondering what today’s post might be about given I only have about fifteen minutes to do it.
Welcome to Friday Ramblings!
This may become a thing.