All my life I have rebelled against life organizing tools. Whether it was the assignment books they gave us in school or the pocket calendar my parents would not-so-subtly give me for Christmas every year, I wanted nothing to do with organizing tools. For me, the time it took to write out to-do lists was time away from writing or something much more important. Besides, I was really good at storing it all in my head.
Until I wasn’t.
If I were Will Robinson, and my Class M-3 Model B9 was hooked up to my NaNo word count, it would be spazzing out right about now.
I’ve been mad busy at my new job, and homecoming weekend is about to deal a heavy blow to my free time. I’m certainly not complaining about having a job in which going to multiple sporting events is required. I just wish that they had picked a more reasonable (and warmer) month to have homecoming. September? October, perhaps?
Any month but November would have been nice.
A typical Monday-morning question that people get from their co-workers is, “How was your weekend?”
And your answer to that question will almost always be, “Fine, and how was yours?”
Short, sweet, and prevents you from having to admit that you spent your entire weekend on the couch eating ramen and watching back-to-back episodes of Law and Order (flipping through five different channels, no less).
But another thing I find myself saying when someone asks me that innocuous weekend question is, “I didn’t get as much done as I wanted to.”