When I first started this blog and decided that I would post every Friday, I was under the impression that there were seven days between each Friday. I’ve since come to discover that no, there are not seven days in a week. It’s more like three. The week goes like this:
- Day 1: Friday
- Day 2: Weekend
- Day 3: Tuesday
And then it starts over again. I can’t seem to account for any more time than that.
Most of this time lately has been spent at work. You know, big project, lots of stress, and the usual. I’ve been trying to squeeze in some minutes here and there finishing up the memoir. You know, that book that I’ve been saying will be ready “soon” since fall of 2016. I’m running out of time, though, since I carved “2017” into stone as the publishing date. (Yes, the second page of the book is made out of granite. All the fancy books do that.)
Then there’s Christmas to get ready for, which is bearing down on us hard already. To make matters worse, I’m out of town every weekend in December. If you haven’t guessed by now, there’s only one thing on my Christmas Wish List:
I hope I get it.
And in case you’re wondering about the blog post title, that’s the amount of time I allowed myself this morning to write it. It was an experiment, and I said I’d stop as soon as the ti