Bella Time

I pray for days like this, days where my time is all my own, days when I can "get things done!" and then, when they get here, I wish like hell I had something planned. Because cleaning out my son's closet of all the clothes that don't fit him anymore, watering the plants, or even doing my blog entry, these are all tasks without enforceable deadlines: and I need a damn deadline. I wasn't a TV reporter for nothing. I need a real and very active threat, like, oh say, getting fired or beaten to a bloody pulp -- I was in TV after all -- to make me get anything done. So today, instead of cleaning closets, I am farting around trying to log onto the blog, and I can't, and it's pissing me off, and Kuhl's hubby who set this whole thing up for us is still asleep -- did I mention it's nearly noon? KBH (Kuhl's beloved husband) WAKE UP! The clock is ticking. I only have two more hours before I have to go and fetch BC (beloved child) from preschool, and then this free day, this day where I had nothing planned: no dentist, no grocery shopping, no errands to run, this day of which I dreamed of finally getting to the projects that have been hanging over me -- I did mention that my plants are going on week three, or is it four without water? -- will be over, and I won't have accomplished squat. I should have gone to the gym. Then, even though my house would still be a dump, I would feel like I did something. Free time is so vastly over rated.