Over Booked
Seventy-nine days until my duties as conference coordinator are over.
As I look at my appointment book for next week, it occurs to me that the first week of March 2009 may very well be one of the most hectic of the year. I have managed, once again, to completely overbook myself.
For starters, it’s my last week teaching at the yoga studio and, in my terror over loss of income, I agreed to sub for an extra class this week. Plus I have a couple of my own private classes to teach. For someone who claims to be cutting her teaching schedule to the bone, I’m teaching a damned lot of yoga next week.
My critique group has not met in months due to weather and assorted illnesses and—okay—my overloaded schedule. But we’re all desperate for a day out, so Monday we’re meeting. All I have for them is my short story, which has already been submitted. But we can polish it up in case it gets rejected and must go on to the next market on my list.
Then I have a Sisters in Crime meeting on Monday night. Something else I’m looking forward to except that I will no doubt be thinking of all the stuff I didn’t get done at home that day.
I also have a kittysitting gig for the next couple of weeks. I love these felines. They are family members and they love me, too. So sitting in a quiet house scratching kitty itches will be a nice escape.
Then there’s the upcoming Pennwriters Board of Directors teleconference next weekend. I have two reports to prepare for it this week. My Area 3 Report won’t be a problem. But the conference coordinators report could turn into War and Peace and I haven’t even started it yet.
Any one or two of these items added to a normal week wouldn’t amount to much. But when you lump them all together and add them to my regular conference planning duties (a whole separate to-do list)…
If you hear an explosion coming from the direction of southwestern Pennsylvania, it’s just my head.
As I look at my appointment book for next week, it occurs to me that the first week of March 2009 may very well be one of the most hectic of the year. I have managed, once again, to completely overbook myself.
For starters, it’s my last week teaching at the yoga studio and, in my terror over loss of income, I agreed to sub for an extra class this week. Plus I have a couple of my own private classes to teach. For someone who claims to be cutting her teaching schedule to the bone, I’m teaching a damned lot of yoga next week.
My critique group has not met in months due to weather and assorted illnesses and—okay—my overloaded schedule. But we’re all desperate for a day out, so Monday we’re meeting. All I have for them is my short story, which has already been submitted. But we can polish it up in case it gets rejected and must go on to the next market on my list.
Then I have a Sisters in Crime meeting on Monday night. Something else I’m looking forward to except that I will no doubt be thinking of all the stuff I didn’t get done at home that day.
I also have a kittysitting gig for the next couple of weeks. I love these felines. They are family members and they love me, too. So sitting in a quiet house scratching kitty itches will be a nice escape.
Then there’s the upcoming Pennwriters Board of Directors teleconference next weekend. I have two reports to prepare for it this week. My Area 3 Report won’t be a problem. But the conference coordinators report could turn into War and Peace and I haven’t even started it yet.
Any one or two of these items added to a normal week wouldn’t amount to much. But when you lump them all together and add them to my regular conference planning duties (a whole separate to-do list)…
If you hear an explosion coming from the direction of southwestern Pennsylvania, it’s just my head.
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