Forcing myself…

Being self-motivated isn’t one of my strengths. One of my strengths is to not climb back into bed after feeding the cats. Sadly, I don’t get paid for that. Nor do I get an annual bonus for all the things I didn’t say. I realize those are petty peeves, but my pet peeves are cats, so I think that gives you some idea of where I’m coming from.

The world is on fire and I almost wish it would explode already. A good clean blast right out of a Michael Bay film. Like when a little kid’s trike falls over and he just has time to run away from the crash before the fireball knocks him off his feet.

That non sequitur aside, the problem I’m having is that I have many things I need to do, many things I want to do, and many things other people want me to do, all the while living in a very small space with a four cats, a husband (evenings and weekends – MTV Networks and I share custody), my son (a recent college graduate at loose ends), and four damn cats. So I have some trouble focusing. But I’m trying and that’s the important thing. I was going to say something else, but my son keeps talking to me and derailed my train of thought which burst into flames.

I think it was something about trying to be productive, but I really need a nap.

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