My Take on the Tyranny of the Urgent

I didn't get Monday's to do list finished. Not even close. Lots of loose ends continued dangling, and I added one more for good measure - a popped tire. An act of sheer idiocy on my part - that's all I'm going to say about it.

After AAA came and changed my tire (this was my second claim in as many months - they'd better either make me a stockholder or revoke my membership), I fought off feelings of frustration and tried to work on updating my book proposal for Belabored. 

No, it hasn't yet been published. This is simply the newest iteration of my pitch to hopefully make agents sit up and take notice of a book I believe (if I do say so myself) has great merit and mind-changing potential. 

That said, the proposal at this stage is flatter than my tire was before the AAA guy swapped it with the donut.

Which reminds me - I'm not sure which is falling apart faster, my body or my car's. The tire has now been replaced, but poor Alex has more bumps and bruises than, well, than I do at this point, and that's saying something. My left shoulder is all out of whack, rebelling angrily anytime I tie on an apron or do a jumping jack (then again, my last round of calisthenics happened around the turn of the century, so no worries there). My right wrist, not wanting to be left out, decided to go on strike at the same time. 

But, hey, I can adapt. For instance, I can hold a glass in the left hand while directing traffic with the other. As long as I don't switch up the two, all's well. 

That'll come in handy if I'm ever called upon to bus tables during a pileup.

Getting back to to do lists, Tuesday's didn't fare much better than its predecessor's. In short, life right now is a series of unchecked boxes, a dog paddling routine, a waiting game. Too many agenda items, not all of them essential, but to me they feel important.

Following through on a promise I made to the guy who gave me stellar roadside assistance the other day. Lamenting the fact that I couldn't give him a tip, I took his card and offered to write him a good review. 

Review writing takes time.

Mailing out a check with a tip for the guys who skimmed my friends and me across the back bays of North Cape May last week. The boat ride was enchanting, but we didn't have a dime between us for a tip.

A few dollars, a few more minutes.

Getting this bleeping proposal tweaked and sent off to the publishing house which expressed interest back in June! Admittedly, I haven't just been playing Tiddlywinks all summer; the publisher suggested some market research to gauge interest might make the thing look more appealing to potential agents, so I've been doing that.

Time, time and more time. 

Financial business. Thank goodness I have finances to worry about, but that's just it - if I don't manage them, who will?

Ka ching! Time is money.

Someone once told me when God made time, He made enough of it. If only I could get my gut to agree with my brain on that piece of wisdom.

This blog entry pretty much wrote itself a couple nights ago when yours truly was trying to fall asleep. After taking care of the most pressing priorities, it was either type up my notes for this or work on the proposal.

I didn't even need to flip a coin.

OK, changing gears now. I no longer feel like being amusing (assuming I was successful in that effort in the first place). Having paused the article after that last sentence, I received news of a situation requiring my action in short order. Neither the circumstances nor the deadline excites me; quite the opposite, in fact. I now have a major new obstacle redirecting me from what I thought was my top priority, the book proposal (alright, so I back burnered that in favor of blogging - what of it?). 

I hear myself sounding whiny, and feel disinclined to change my tone. I am whining, doggone it! As I suspect is the case with many writers, it's extremely difficult to rouse oneself into the writing mode when one has gotten out of practice. Perhaps it's like riding a bike in some ways - the skill does come back quickly, but not without a few tumbles and the need to reacquaint oneself with the basic mechanics of the job. When that process keeps getting interrupted, the whole re-learning curve takes that much longer.

The Tyranny of the Urgent comes to mind. I once blogged about that subject, and am feeling the same kind of angst that I did then. 

My mother once pined after Dad was admitted, yet again, to the hospital through the ER, "Where do I go to accept this?"

I find myself reshaping Mom's question thusly: "Where do I go to prioritize all this?" 

The answer was then and still is the same: the cross.

"A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps."

Proverbs 16:9