Every day I go to bed with a list in my head of all the things I want to accomplish the next day. Seriously. And usually by 8 a.m. I feel pretty good about myself.
Well not this morning.
Why?
Because last night the hamster kept me up until waaayyyy past the witching hour. And while I usually give in and get up to write it all down – whether the thoughts make sense or not – last night I was on a mission to WIN. Instead of surrendering to the endless stream of ideas, I wanted to SLEEP.
Result?
Disaster. I didn’t sleep. Didn’t write. And now I’m as wired up as a caffeine-infused ant hill.
Maybe I should try one of those Bob Marley drinks . . .
PS. If this is your first time here, and if you’ve ever believed that you had eyeball cancer after sitting in a medical clinic for almost forever, I suggest you read I am not a hypochondriac. And thanks Apple for giving me the tool to believe that I have eyeball cancer.
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