Double Booking, No…

Not only do I find myself double, but triple booked!

This is unforgivable and the second calendar must go… I tell my son I have to be able to take my “moving man” hat off by 2pm because although I only have two simple words written in my diary, “dinner club”, a multitude of behind the scenes activities accompany this reminder.

I need time that has not been written in the book.

In fact, if a simple event like “dinner club” is written it should fill the whole page so that nothing else can be penned by the owner of the pencil.

It’s dinner club, I need to shop and cook, I’m going to be seen in public at a social event so a good hair colour would be apropos, and if I’m going to be around people a shower would be appreciated especially after playing the part of “moving man” for my son earlier in the day.

I’m wearing a dress so a shave would be appropriate, so would a thoughtfully chosen outfit, dress I just said, Italian looking dress, with matching high heels, to please the hubby if no-one else.

I had to call and cancel lunch, I took a rain check, leafed through both diaries until I reached a week where they both agreed there were no entries, it was Spring break, but I penciled lunch in.  Silly me, so much unwritten stuff to do during Spring break…we’ll see.

Everything I write has preparation time, “writing group” has to have something written,

“reading group”, I have to read,

“linens” requires two hours to wash and iron, fold and store,

“serving” requires preparing the reading of scripture and sometimes the practicing of researched pronunciation of words,

“Show” requires eight hours of preparation, not to mention the hours spent canvasing potential guests and walking them through the process.

I look at the books that are my memory.  I can’t read them, they are a blur of activity.  And I tell my son, my other son who isn’t moving,

“I am going to do what God says, take one day at a time.  Tomorrow this is what I do…

” I have one entry for tomorrow:  “Yoga 7pm”.

It lies…I can read between the lines,

“write journal and pray, take Malia to college, go to jazzercise, drop off paint and coolant at the chemical collection centre, check email, write email, donate umpteen puzzles to Jonathan’s House, finish my show notes, call my mother, pick up Malia from college, then go to Yoga at 7pm”.

Did I mention, shower, laundry, make bed, talk to hubby, drink tea, eat lunch, wash dishes?

How big are those little diary squares?

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