Best Intentions Part II . . .

No, no more disgusting pictures of my smoked back. Not to worry, the sunburn will soon be a distant memory when it fades away in about six months. . . .

No, today we discuss what happens when you decide to tap each day for its full potential. Or what doesn’t happen . . . .

Back in the dead of winter last year, when the days were short and dark, the money was scarce, and we lived in 12x20 Shack, I started to say yes to a lot of projects, jobs, assignments, etc. that sounded exciting and fun and just generally a really good idea. Sure I’d have time for it all, I thought. I’d just have to be willing to go full out every single day this summer. (Thank goodness I have no children!)

But lately I haven’t been going full out every day. Instead, it’s felt like I’m running into a wall. I plan to get up early but only succeed in rolling out of bed just as Andy’s hitting the road to work. By then, after the physical therapy exercises are done, breakfast is fixed and lunch is packed, there’s very little time left in my morning before it’s time to start thinking about heading to work. All day at work, I tell myself at night I’ll get the freelance work done. Yet when I get home, it’s generally sounded like more fun to bake a pie or hunker down with a cup of tea and the novel (Haunted Ground by Erin Hart) I’m reading.

Then on Wednesday afternoon, while Andy was off at fire training, I discovered the shelves in our bedroom -- meant to organize all my important papers – looking like this:

Not a single pay stub, bank statement, or anything else had been filed since after I’d gotten home from New York City . . . in April. I filed all the miscellaneous papers draped across the shelves and the printer (which is out of ink). It took all of fifteen minutes. So I decided I’d had enough with not doing what I should be doing just because other things sound like more fun. (The novel I’m reading really is intriguing.)

Last night I stayed up after Andy crashed into bed and wrote a “to-do” list that’s actually broken into bite-sized chunks. I made up an editorial calendar for this blog. (Yes, I’m attempting to semi-focus the “Of Woods and Words” content so the blog can be described, vaguely, as something other than my rambling thoughts.) There are plenty of walls out there for me to run into, but I’m through with this one. No more letting my best intentions get the best of me.