Somehow, I’ve managed to get beyond busy. Amazingly busy. Can’t recall what I did over the weekend by Monday afternoon level of busy. And the awful thing is, I kind of like it. The unreformed adrenalin junkie creeps out when I have this much to do and has a great time killing snakes, as one former boss liked to say (only the a.j. thinks she’s entitled to scarf doughnuts as fuel, and no ma’am, , that’s not allowed.)
On the other hand, part of being so busy is being more rigorous than I used to be about doing things besides work. Like go for a walk or a hike. Blog. Write poetry. See a friend or multiple friends. Read. Walk my ever-patient dog. Have adventures. Work on some help the world do better project for a friend. Be a friend. Get away for the weekend once in a while.
My most *famous* days as a blogger were during some of the darkest moments of my life, when I either was going to sit at the computer and blog and write, or put my head under the pillows and cry. Whenever people talk to me about the traffic this blog gets, I think back to those days and just smile.
You see, compared to back then, I think I am probably a little closer these days to almost getting it right.