Wednesday, January 26, 2011

A Little Whine, Hold the Cheese

Today’s one of those days when I wish I could split myself in two. I am so busy at the law firm, I’m working 10-11 hours a day. At home, a manuscript deadline is coming at me like a train on a dark and deserted railroad crossing and I’m the damsel in distress tied up like a rump roast and sprawled across the tracks waiting for the impact.

I’m the size of two people, so why can’t I simply separate myself down an imaginary dotted line. Half of me can shower and dress and go to work while the other half remains in my jammies glued to the keyboard at home.

Why, because which half would get which limbs? Would my right brain stay home and my left brain go to the office? Since I’m right handed, would there be a bidding war for my right hand and the loser gets the left? I use my legs more at the office, running up and down the hallways to the copy room, kitchen, attorney offices – stuff like that. But what about my big ole ass? It’s needed in both places, though the writer side definitely uses it more. After all, I type better sitting down. Hmm, I think I could do with one cheek in each place.

It’s a conundrum.

Alas, whining won’t get me anywhere, nor will it get me showered and dressed and off to work where a big client meeting awaits for today. Nor will whining get another page or two completed on my current work in progress before I leave.

But it felt soooooo good. I had to voice my frustration at juggling so much in so little time. And, oh yeah, I forgot, beginning in February, I’ll be adding book promotion for Ghost in the Polka Dot Bikini to my To Do List, including out-of-town travel.

It will all get done. I know it will. I have confidence in my abilities and, more importantly, in my tenacity. The manuscript for Granny Apples #3 is coming along nicely, if not as fast as I’d like, and the work at the office is also getting done. Both have deadlines that cannot be missed and will not be missed. When I am gasping for air and entertaining the idea of giving up, I will dig deep and call on my reserves like an Iron Man competitor in the last five miles of the run. I did the freaking Mud Run – dammit – I can do this.

Okay, my rant is over. At least that’s all the time I can afford.  I gave it the few minutes originally slotted for breakfast.

1 comment:

Mark said...

I hate it when life comes at me too fast, and I don't have as much on my plate as you do.

Take a deep breath. I have faith you can do it.