I had a simple plan for the summer. Basically, I want to get up each morning and walk 3 miles, write for a few hours, and do some stupid little project around the house like fold the clothes in the third drawer. Um, it hasn't happened.
While I was at the library Monday working on the writing project I just finished at 5 this morning, I found out my niece was going to come down for her visit that day. After a frantic house cleaning session which more resembled making sure I picked all the bras out from between the couch cushions and at least lined up my shoes by the front door, I only had 9 of my 25 articles outlined.
Despite my best efforts to write in the morning before she woke, I found myself writing for six hours last night, stopping three times to set my cell phone alarm clock for 10 minute naps in my desk chair. They're done.
Right now I wouldn't trade the dark circles under my eyes or that sickly feeling in my stomach. My niece had never seen the Gulf of Mexico. She lives along the Chesapeake Bay, so she's no stranger to the ocean. Her ocean, though, is cold, rough water filled with jellyfish. There's something so thrilling to be with someone the first time they witness the mystical miracle of the sea.
Even though she hated carrying that beach chair and her feet were already sliding in her flip flops, she climbed to the top of the steps leading the beach. And gasped. The water here is a stunning turquoise. And I GOT TO SEE HER FACE WHEN SHE SAW IT. It's priceless. She was completely amazed that she could actually swim in the water here without fear of stinging sea creatures.
So we swam. We floated. We jumped in the current and let it carry us away. We lounged inside my new sun shade? It's like a tent that once I tore up the directions and attemtped to set up the wrong way turns out to be a piece of cake to set up. No sun rays are going to get me there. That's my perfect day at the beach. A little swimming and a whole lot of not getting touched by any sunlight.
While I was at the library Monday working on the writing project I just finished at 5 this morning, I found out my niece was going to come down for her visit that day. After a frantic house cleaning session which more resembled making sure I picked all the bras out from between the couch cushions and at least lined up my shoes by the front door, I only had 9 of my 25 articles outlined.
Despite my best efforts to write in the morning before she woke, I found myself writing for six hours last night, stopping three times to set my cell phone alarm clock for 10 minute naps in my desk chair. They're done.
Right now I wouldn't trade the dark circles under my eyes or that sickly feeling in my stomach. My niece had never seen the Gulf of Mexico. She lives along the Chesapeake Bay, so she's no stranger to the ocean. Her ocean, though, is cold, rough water filled with jellyfish. There's something so thrilling to be with someone the first time they witness the mystical miracle of the sea.
Even though she hated carrying that beach chair and her feet were already sliding in her flip flops, she climbed to the top of the steps leading the beach. And gasped. The water here is a stunning turquoise. And I GOT TO SEE HER FACE WHEN SHE SAW IT. It's priceless. She was completely amazed that she could actually swim in the water here without fear of stinging sea creatures.
So we swam. We floated. We jumped in the current and let it carry us away. We lounged inside my new sun shade? It's like a tent that once I tore up the directions and attemtped to set up the wrong way turns out to be a piece of cake to set up. No sun rays are going to get me there. That's my perfect day at the beach. A little swimming and a whole lot of not getting touched by any sunlight.
Comments
I have found that making up schedules for myself really doesn't work. My body and my brain have their own way of doing things when they want to get them done and, try as I might, I never can seem to get them to conform to my ideas of what routine should be.