I apologize. I lied. I promised I’d write soon and when I did it would be about my fabulous four-day, four-night trip to New York City. Neither of those things is true.
I last wrote 6 days ago, longer than I had anticipated it would be. And when I did finally write, I planned to elaborate upon my trip to New York City with humorous stories thinly disguised as lessons. Well, have I elaborated on my trip yet? No. And there is a reason for that.
It is now 10:52 p.m. and I need to go to bed soon. I still have a sink full of dishes and a pile of laundry that in two days time may take me five loads to complete. I had all kinds of plans for this past weekend to get me caught up on those things that had fallen to the wayside immediately before, during and after my trip. That list of course included writing about my trip. But the truth is they are not done. They were not done this weekend, and I seriously think unless things start growing in my sink or my laundry piles begin to block the entryway to my bathroom, things are pretty much going to remain status quo until the weekend. I have a one word answer as to the root of all this. Usually it would be procrastination, but today it’s not. Today’s word is work.
Work is busy. Busy to where if I leave the office midday for a lunch break I feel lucky. Busy to where I worked almost 40 hours last week despite having Monday and Tuesday off. Busy to where I’m happy if I’m home before 7:30 p.m. during the week. Busy to where I can’t even contemplate doing something creative at home when life’s small, daily tasks scream for my attention first.
This is my own doing. About a month ago work was slow, my cases all incredibly inactive. If anything, I was hounding for work. I asked for more work, and now a month later everything I asked for is begging for 6 hours of my daily attention. That’s why I put in 11 hours at work today and have been told to bring my comfy shoes tomorrow. My coworker and I will apparently be at the office late enough to where the firm dress code will no longer apply.
Perhaps some day when my cases aren’t heading to trial and when attorneys don’t assign me five projects before I’ve finished the first, I’ll sit down and write about my trip to New York. I’ll tell you how I ate ridiculously well, saw Ground Zero, went to my first meet and greet with a band, took in some of the most beautiful fall days in Central Park and laughed until I cried when Dave Attell called my friend, Yvonne, big nipples wet gas. (I still laugh about that just typing it.) But that can’t be tonight because it’s 11:03 p.m. right now and by the sounds of it, I may just be getting home at this time tomorrow.
Instead I will leave you with the lesson I take away from all this: Be careful what you ask for.