I Hate Days Like This

where I accomplish absolutely nothing. I've got a list of probably ten things I absolutely should be getting done. I have probably no less than eight loads of laundry, no kidding. I have an enormous stack of who-knows-what I have to go through: magazines, mail, papers of every which kind and every degree of importance, junk mail, etc. It's been staring me down for days. Thus far I've been pretty successful at averting my eyes and going on. But the stares are getting heavier and more malevolent, so I know that soon there'll be no escape. Our office is incredibly, unbelievably messy. In fact, I have no idea---none whatsoever---how my husband accomplishes anything within those walls. I take one step inside the door and my insides go into panic mode. I feel short of breath, my heart constricts, I get the shakes and feel a need to rush to the nearest bowl (luckily there are about 12 within reach since my husband doesn't realize that they won't walk to the kitchen and put themselves into the dishwasher). (But I exaggerate. I think there's only about three. I'm afraid to go double-check just for the sake of accurate reporting.)

The only things I managed to do today were: get my kids up, dressed and to school (no small feat, mind you), go to the grocery store, and pick up my kids. That's all. All those hours in-between, and all I managed to do was plop myself in front of the computer and do nothing of importance.

I wish I could rewind and start over. The worst part is that instead there's every chance I'll do the same thing tomorrow.

I absolutely can't let that happen.

I make deals with myself like this all the time: Waste the rest of this day, keep blobbing around now since the day's virtually over, but then tomorrow get all the things on your list done. Deal?? Cool.

We'll see.