When Tarzan and I were first married I would hear tales of his mother staying up until the wee small hours of the morning working on lessons for school, editing papers, planning Visiting Teaching excursions or sending letters to family.
I will admit to thinking she was nuts.
Why on earth would anyone stay up that late/early? Do it tomorrow or plan it better and then it would all be done in a timely manner.
Ah. The naivete of youth.
I respectfully ask for Gamma's forgiveness for ever thinking she wasn't better organized; when the truth is, she was SO organized she had everything scheduled down to the last minute detail and was going to get it all done or the delicate balance she had made between work, family and church would collapse.
Or at least, that's what I'm thinking as I stay up late to make gingerbread men for Christmas plates that Tarzan is taking on the last day of school - tomorrow - for his fellow teachers.
Sure, I could have done it a different night this week, but all the days are scheduled out the wazoo. With weddings and parties and shopping and weather and family and the business and the car being sick - it's back now and just fine - and all that stuff, I understand the scheduling conflicts, the emergencies that come up, assignments that someone falls through on, or get changed.
And just plain not having enough hours in the day.
I am reminded of a book we used to read when I was a kid with the Sesame Street characters and Ernie keeps putting "one more thing," and "one more thing" into Bert's bath until there isn't any room for Bert.
This is me and as it is I need a week to get caught up to where I'm only behind a little.