Deadlines.

Deadlines will be the death of me. I’ve had all month. Ideas percolated but time was running out. Finally springing into action last week, Wednesday, I found my focus, scheduled an interview, 2 pm Monday, emailed my questions, spoke to my editor, made a careless promise—drunk on summer time, forgetting my life.

Thursday.

Friday.

Then, “You’ve got mail.” Uh-oh. Monday meeting turns to Tuesday. 2 pm. Time seemed abundant. Somehow, I’d forgotten about the RRVWP Advanced Institute, oops. The demo I had to prepare for Wednesday, oops. Reading Caramelo for Thursday’s book club, oops.

The interview was lovely. Coffee, conversation, laughs and more material than I can squeeze into 600-800 words. Time to write. But. Then there was a friend’s back trouble, my own heart trouble, cell phone trouble, car trouble, should I travel to visit a friend who is visiting trouble.

Cindy calls Tuesday. “I’m visiting my folks, in case you want to visit.” I said yes. She’s here till Friday. I figure I can move some things around. She’s only here twice a year, and there’s a new baby. She lives ten hours away. I could leave Thursday after the institute, canceling my curriculum planning session with my pal Eileen both Thurs. afternoon and Friday morning. But now I remember my check engine light is on, my airbags light is on, and my headlight is out. And suddenly I remember that Thursday is also book club. I try to call Cindy back and I can’t do it. I can’t call anyone, my cell phone isn’t working.

Then when it does on Wednesday. I forget to call. Demo is fine. Supposed to be done with the young adult book, The Giver…. Am still reading. 24 hours later I’ve not looked at the rich interview material begging to be sifted through. I haven’t committed one word to paper.

On Thursday as the Institute ends, the relationship band-aid’s in place but time is needed for tending that wound, Caramelo is a lost cause, but I’m determined to read to at least Part Three. My cell phone got rebooted, Tuesday during mid-demo packet preparation. My article deadline is actually tomorrow. Visit Cindy? I need to call her—she still thinks I’m coming. What was I thinking?

I guess I didn’t need to go to Wed. Night trivia last night. Somehow it didn’t seem like an option. Like eating, it’s just something I do. Then after, I went to Borrowed Bucks for the line dancing competition championship. After seven weeks of domination I was present to see my friends Victor and Tyler’s heartbreaking defeat. No Las Vegas trip for them. It wasn’t my desire to be there, despite the free drinks (I had water) and the party atmosphere. No, it was a duty of love. Of neighborliness.

Thursday morning. Awake at 7. Stopped at the library. Stopped at the Amoco station. Off to the Institute. Still not done with The Giver, Caramelo, or my article. It will get done.

But the agony. Deadlines.