It's one of those times again, when a perfectly fine day goes by and I feel like I've accomplished nothing. Of course I feel guilty, annoyed, and vowing (once more) to do better next time. But 'next time' turns out to be a repeat of said day-gone-to-waste. I have the whole weekend, yet Monday will find me in need of a pedicure, with a pile of unpressed clothes, half-read magazines waiting to be sorted, three-month-old pocketbooks awaiting plastic covers.
But I should stop whining about how I cannot manage my time. Why do I feel like I have to do so much? Because I have so much. I am a good tutor but I haven't managed my daughter's study habits. I write well, but I haven't gotten around to getting something published. I have more money these days but my credit card bills remain unpaid. And I have gotten lazy.
So I feel bad, because I feel that if I don't use these resources well, they will one day be taken from me. I have waited a long time to enjoy a good life with my family, and now that it looks like it's happening, I often sit on the terrace the whole day to read a book I've read five times already (Prince of Tides, quite wonderful). I think I've never done a single resolution well, such as getting up early. I tried this morning, but promptly went back to bed when I saw it was still dark outside.
And here I am, knowing perfectly well something is not right and something should be done, but I just write about it. Pathetic, my dear, pathetic. I have to groan when I read my old post, 'What's Holding You Back?' Why do I try so hard to make my life so complicated?
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