As the list of stuff to do grows, the energy I have with which to do it diminishes. There’s a formula in there somewhere, but as I’m mildly numeral-dyslexic (no seriously, I freak people out in the store all the time), I couldn’t tell you what it is.
On the 29th of this month I’ll be officially a student again, with what the Uni calls a ‘full-time’ course load. Let’s face it, it’s not full-time by any stretch of the imagination. Combine it with part-time work and parenting and writing and cleaning and procrastination though, and suddenly it seems like I’ve got more stuff than I could possibly finish in three full-time jobs! That’s rot. I know it’s rot, in my mind. I can see around me many, many people who manage to cram a butt-load of stuff into their day while simultaneously raising perfect children, keeping fit and having a spotless house. How the hell do they do that?
My minimums for the coming months are as follows. I want;
- Three (read ’em 3) gym classes a week. Failing an appropriate gym class, I want to go anyway and use the machines. 3 times a week! 3.
- There is nothing I can do about how much I work, as I have a policy (re: tiny bank balance) which forces me to say yes to every shift going. These shifts are 9-5. Other people work 9-5 and still manage to do all their other stuff. I will too.
- At least one day a week, I will devote at least four (4) hours to writing. No excuses. None. I have a supportive husband, a number of live-in baby sitters and Talie is easy enough to get along with. 4 hours. At least once a week. No less!