I’ve been suffering jet lag. I’ve moved to a time zone four hours earlier. Man is that a hard adjustment. I’d illustrate it with a picture but it’s a face even a two year old off-spring can’t love. (That is, if I had one at the moment).
Oh, I haven’t left the Farm on highway seven o’two. Nor boarded a jet. Let’s not panic, or get excited.
I’ve just switched to my summer hours. I love summer hours, the birds are loud, the fog is on the pond, food tastes better, and the phone usually doesn’t ring, but getting here is getting a little harder with each passing year.
I used to be (and this was just six or so years back) the camp counselor that stayed awake for four days straight, slept for a day and then stayed awake for four more. When I superintended barns at the fair or managed the little community fair I could easily manage on about two or three hours of sleep for ten or so days. Not no more I fear.
I was trying to creep into my new hours but when it clearly wasn’t working (there was always something more to watch while I worked on the lap top, wee hour programing is so interesting) and in fact was going the opposite way, kinda like a diet, I decided to take drastic measures.
So last Sunday I went to bed at nine, awoke at five and made Dirt breakfast before he left for work at six. Yes, usually for most of the year I don’t send my husband to work with a wifely made breakfast. Try not to chastise me Dear Reader, he always says that he actually likes it when he is the only one up, comes from having only one bathroom in the house.
Man, I have gotten more done in the first three hours of work (six to nine) this week than I was getting done in a whole day, not to mention the rest of the day, another reason I love summer hours.
On top of all of that, even though I just recently decried schedules and such on Kannani’s blog, I felt compelled, commanded, to do up a schedule of work. Krimanitly this is starting to sound like I might become a grown up soon.
My usual modus operandi with schedules is to make up a terrific schedule, work it for a few days even a couple of weeks, only to have an unexpected, unscheduled happening come along, throw me for a curve and cause me to completely derail from the Schedule ride.
But I’ve already survived a derailment attempt. My very first day held an unscheduled event and I got right back on and stayed on for the rest of the week in spite of a couple more little unscheduled events.
Dear Reader do you know what I found out when I did up the schedule? I happen to notice that there really isn’t enough hours in the day.
But I have actually been so busy that I am starting to feel that I’m not as far behind in life as I felt I was when I did up my to do list and schedule, so I am going to revamp my schedule and actually give myself some reading and writing time,oh the frivolity of it all!
I allow myself to get derailed a lot, from more than just schedules and to do lists. Blogging, as was defined to me at the beginning of my blogging life last May, is making a web log, or a log on the web. I took log as to mean a journal of sorts. This was an intriguing thing to me as I have always been drawn to journalling, as evidenced by the multitude of journals in my storage bench upstairs in my perch.
Those journals are used, well most for about three to five pages some with a dozen more and a few with just a starting date. Like I said, I am drawn to journalling, not necessarily am I a journal-er. The only times I have ever journalled “successfully” was when it was an assignment for school. (uh, that’s been about twenty-five years ago).
So the fact that I have kept at this blogging thing for a year now is quite frankly amazing.
But I must admit I came across a fear this week when I couldn’t seem to find the will to carve out some blogging (journalling) time in the couple of “free time” spaces in my schedule. And my usual blogging time, just prior to going to bed, found me in a blur and fog. I feared I was derailed.
But my fingers have ached and my brain has nearly exploded due to the lack of writing.
So I will no longer depend on “free time” spaces and instead block out some time to purpose to write, but again there lies a catch. I think of myself as a random fire-er in creativity. I believe that I must feel inspired. However I am beginning to think that may actually be a lie to cover up my pure selfish laziness.
Well Dear Reader I am sorry that there were no pictures this morning but I didn’t think that my little story about my personal jet lag wouldn’t really take that long or turn into a confession about my short-comings as a grown-up, and there really aren’t pictures to go with all that.
I am off to a wholesale nursery that has a retail sale once a year. (Hopefully I will soon change my retail status for things like nursery or food prep supplies.) My oldest three are going with me and Anna is staying with my grandboys to go with Dirt to do some shearing. Oh… I see a tussle over the one camera about to brew. Gotta go plan my strategy, have a great and productive day Dear Reader.
