Time for ... time

I sorted my socks today.

I can hear you now --"Whoee, what an exciting life this author must lead, she sorted socks today." {sounds of puzzlement expressed.}

This is momentous because I haven't had time to do mundane things for about four months. I have been:

• writing
• editing
• researching publishing
• researching promotion
• researching 1934 St. Paul (for my next book)
• doing errands
• working 40+ hours a week
• staying in touch with friends, family and spouse
• watching after the elderly and aging cat
• doing laundry
• getting groceries
• going to the gym
• attending RWA chapter meetings
• writing newsletters (mine and for the chapter)
• planning trips
• going on trips

Then the whole cycle starts again.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm enjoying it. But yesterday I had back-to-back appointments, for which I'd taken some time off from work. At one point, I decided to nip over to the grocery store. For the first time in probably 3 months, I wasn't there with a list and a purpose. I (dare I say it) browsed. I thought about upcoming menus. I considered options. I did not power-shop the store.

And today I sorted my socks. I took the time to gather all those widowed socks, and find their partners, which were lurking in the back of the drawer. You see, I'm feeling organized, and in control of what has to be done so I feel I can take this bit of time.

Oh, yeah, I have to write a couple of new books this year and the old muse just isn't striking me. I'm not worried. It will strike and I'll write them. When it does, I'll be so immersed in my own little world that I won't have time to sort my socks, go to the grocery store, or do much of anything on that list up above.

So I'm going to enjoy this while I can ...