Splat

Right now I'm surrounded by more dropped balls than a kindergartner playing shortstop at a major league park. Or, truth be told, than my own self playing any kind of sport involving a ball.

(I googled "more dropped balls than" just out of curiosity. My favorite was "...than a nearsighted circus juggler," although "...than even the lengthiest porno movie" had a certain weird appeal.)

Thanks to a perfect storm of work work, freelance work (15,000 words in three weeks? Sure, I can do that!), travel, kid stuff, and whatever the hell else I do all day, I have seriously neglected:

1. Some other freelance work that pays less and therefore is lower priority, but is for a family member so the guilt is magnified.

2. The web site I agreed to help build for a local nonprofit. Since attending the first meeting four months ago, I've accomplished... not so much as a <> tag.

3. My house. Both more cluttered than I have ever allowed it to become, and actually dirty, as I screwed up the housecleaners' schedule because of our trips.

4. My kids' birthday party. It's bad enough that they're getting a joint party, because they were born one day apart and are still too young to complain about it. Now said party is going to happen 3 weeks after the fact since I have not managed to plan an event or actually invite anyone to it.

5. This blog. I keep posting these dumb list-based entries, when, really and truly, there is more I would like to say.

Stay tuned. Ever the optimist, I have high hopes for April. (Don't you just picture me as an ant, now, pushing a rubber-tree plant? Or maybe just a dork.)