Yesterday was Monday, October 12, and a national holiday. It felt like Sunday…I am late.

Yes, I am late…again… I don’t like being late. In the process of thinking about the fact that I am late, I realized that we are midway through October…Thanksgiving and Christmas will be here in a heartbeat. I have presents to make (my daughter wants me to knit her hat; I have some ideas for gifts from my sewing machine, too.)

I also have two pairs of socks started…each with one sock completed. My church group has been making ornaments to give away at a Christmas festival in town in December. Those ornaments are nowhere near complete and so I have those at home to finish off, too. I have stacks of fabric to sew up.

Plus I admin a few groups on Facebook, try to write a twice-weekly blog post (sometimes without success), am taking an online cooking class, participate in a community garden (we have two growing seasons here), and am involved in a couple of committees at church. How  did it reach this point? I am supposed to be retired, after all.

It reached this point because I said “yes” rather than “no.” It reached this point because I love everything I do and I love feeling just the slightest bit rushed. It’s that little rush of adrenaline, I suppose. What I don’t like is being late…

So, forgive me if I now see if my new laptop battery is a dud (like the one I received last week) and then go tend to two weeks worth of laundry and clean up the kitchen a bit. I’m late for laundry and cleaning, too…

What’s your take on being late? No judgments from me.


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