and the next and the next and...

One of the things I like about myself is that, if I have a long and dreaded list of Things To Do and some time to do them in, I can sit down and just do them.

Oh, my attention wanders sometimes, but I can always catch myself when my mind wanders away, say, "No, Alena, we are doing this now" and set myself gently back on the path. The first step is always the hardest.

Sometimes, of course, the next thing is not something my brain is ready for, so I do a different thing. But I do something, and then I do another thing, and another. And then somehow I have just been sitting here all weekend, writing essays and math papers and novel critiques, emailing professors, talking to my parents, doing physics homework. Being ridiculously, disgustingly, determinedly productive.

I scheduled in off time for myself, sure. (In which I made a terrible notacake--vcmw, I tried adding buckwheat flour but I was changing too many things at once and it failed.) I know my limits. That is part of the beauty of it: knowing when you will just slip through your fingers again, be away and over the fields, and watching yourself go.

... sometimes I really hate being Responsible (don't make me be Beezus, I want to be Ramona!), but y'know, sometimes it is really handy. After all, it's not even dinner on Sunday, and my List is nearly empty.