I woke up this morning determined to get things done. I'm doing okay at the moment. My stack of "work" papers is manageable and has dwindled to the point I am contemplating calling it a day so I can focus on writing. This is where I always get myself in trouble.
I look forward at the rest of the day and weekend savoring the hours I can fill with productive writing. The delicious anticipation allows me to sneak a peek at Facebook or Twitter or my email, or heck, why not all of them? I have the time. That is how it always begins.
How does it end? Somewhere around 5:00 on Sunday when I've done very little and decide to throw in the towel for the weekend and plan to do better next week. Trust me, you don't have to sing this song twice. I know the words.
Maybe I need a better plan. I am contemplating making myself prepare a schedule for tomorrow and Sunday, posting the sucker everywhere I can see it, and giving my husband the ability to punish me by depriving me of my remote control rights if he finds that I am not sticking to the schedule.
Then again, I did miss Vampire Diaries and V last night. I could watch them on the internet and then put together my schedule. After all, I do have time. And so it begins . . .