I just feel myself getting behind and as the to-do-list grows, my time remains finite. It's frustrating. I made a list, hand-written, the other day hoping to lay it out and prioritize, but I don't feel any better yet.
This weekend I did pretty much nothing. I stayed in on Friday night to paint. Then I painted over the entire thing. I need to make a painting for my sister and her fiancee, since I can't give them the car as I had hoped to do. I think that my need for inspiration is making inspiration hide in some inconspicuous corner under a pile of pressing to-do-list items and a desire to sleep and sleep and sleep.
Last night I worked and it was a quiet night, made fun by the few people who did come to the bar. I would say that over half the groups who came in offered to buy or did buy me a drink or more. Maybe I looked like I needed it. It didn't help me to be more productive today, as I had hoped. The most productive thing I did all day is a tie between showering and heating up canned, condensed soup. Wow, hygiene and feeding myself. I'm a winner.
Meanwhile, the to-do-list gathers dust and my fear of being overwhelmed is, well, overwhelming. I think that might be counter-productive.
Luckily, little things here and there make bright patches in my days.