I don’t like this time of year because I’m in a state of constant busyness but nothing of value gets done. It’s endless bird-dropping tasks, emails, bickering with co-workers who get extremely particular about the most trivial things. Messages, messages, messages. Parsecs of emails. And if you don’t think emails are measured in parsecs, you haven’t seen my Outlook. People are storming my office. Everybody wants something. I barely have time to write. Weather changes are extreme, which is energy-sapping. The cat is obese (not our fault, we got her this way) and her mealtimes need attention. My aunt ended up at the hospital, and I’m getting updates every two hours. I have laundry that has waited to be folded for almost a week. It stares at me with mute reproach. All I want to do, in the meantime, is hide somewhere with a book.
OK, rant over. I have 30 minutes before I have ve to zonk out and I still haven’t done my daily Bible readings.
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