Flying Slugs

This month has just up and flown by. At a slugs pace, mind you. Didn’t even know that dichotomy was possible. Has this ever happened to you before?

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I’m counting the minutes, hours, days ‘til Friday is here. Reveling in every quickie happy hour I’m able to sneak in. There will be at least two this week! One that includes chocolate fondue. Mmmm.

But the pile of work before me is – well? Quite honestly? Ooky at best. And I’m wading through it. Getting there, one step at a time. I can almost see the light at the… no, no, that’s not light, that’s… ewwww. QuickBooks. Sigh. The end of the tunnel is still illusive.

And then I look up long enough to spy the time – oh, got to go get the kids soon! And the date – oh holy crap the bills are due. Then I look back at my pile and decide that the hour that’s between me hopping into the car and actually doing it is going to last a life time. ‘Cause I don’t want to do it!

Whiney, that’s me.

Last month I was chanting May May May – wanting it to get here. Now May’s almost over and I’m kinda doing that reverse breathing thing, like sucking on an asthma inhaler: enuJ enuJ enuJ. Think that will help?

‘Cause I’m more comfortable with the slugs pace time than the fast flying time.

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