Mine says quarter past too late. Really, why does it feel like time is constantly running out? Or, rather, TIME IS RUNNING OUT! It’s that sort of panic. And I really, really hate shouting.
Time to take stock. (Ha-ha.)
- I am, as some of you know and as I just told someone, stubborn to the point of stupidity, and likely to spend time on things I’ve decided to do even if there’s no harm in leaving them undone. (Viz blogging even when there’s nothing much to say, etc. etc.)
- Rather than speed up as panic approaches, I slow down. I’m already in hibernation mode (plague on this never-ending November), and then I become even more lethargic. My movements are currently glacial enough to be practically unobservable.
- I will. not. accept. not having time to exercise.
- A girl’s got to eat even when she’s too sluggish to cook. So she cooks anyway, only it takes twice as long because she’s too foggy to plan anything properly. Quickly roast some vegetables? Took me well over an hour in the kitchen. Hopeless.
Needed: a personality swap (with someone more flexible), something to speed me up (without messing with my ability to focus my attention), more hours to the day and a cook. Any offers?