expectations

Every Monday morning I wake up with the same misconception: I think I can conquer the world. Well, at least my world. Today was no exception.

Write two chapters--each--for two different novels. No problem

Finish pictures for current photo shoot. Sure.

Catch up on almost a week's worth of laundry. Bring it on.

Clean not just a few rooms--clean the entire house top to bottom. Piece of cake.

Catch up on correspondence and answer phone calls. Heck, yeah.

Run a zillion errands. Why not?

Rearrange blog per feedback from a person who made blog suggestions. Check.

Like all the other Mondays in my life, today my enthusiasm ran wild and free--until mid-afternoon. That's when I rediscovered that rushing, and hurrying, and cramming things into one day (things that really should take a week to complete) never, never works.

The chapters never left my fingers.

The photo shoot is only half-done.

So is the wash.

The house is only one-third of the way clean.

Correspondence and phone calls. No and no.

Blog? Well, the header I tried to put on, took an hour to take off. Suffice it to say it was large. Obnoxiously large. I couldn't figure out why, but the new photo of me contained in the header was about six inches tall. On a blog that's billboard size. It revealed wrinkles and nose hairs I didn't even know I had.

On the verge of tears--lots of tears--I nearly pulled the plug on the whole blog. Seconds before meltdown, I finally got things fixed. That is to say, the blog is back to its original state. Which is much better than having a blog where my giant nose hairs frighten innocent people.

All in all, I have to give myself some credit. I did make marginal progress.

Enough that next Monday I'll wake up and try to conquer my world all over again.