Every night when I go home from the office I have a to-do list that can’t possibly be accomplished that night. Last night, Thursday, was a good example. I’m writing this at the end of the work day on Friday, and I think I left the to-do list for yesterday at home. I remember it included a certain item of yard work, something I’m spending 60 to 90 minutes on every evening. It included adding entries to the checkbook, totaling it, and entering items in my budget sheet. It also included: measuring for shelves in the storeroom; stocks research; moving certain items to their proper storage location; and some leisure things such as reading a chapter in a book. Oh, yes, and fixing supper.

I arrived at the house and fixed supper for me and my mother-in-law (my wife being out of town, helping with grandchildren). Since we had a leftover main course it didn’t take long. Then I went out for the yard work. Back inside around 8:15 p.m., I discovered I had left my checkbook at the office. Obviously that significant part of my to-do list had to be postponed. So I tackled some of the other items on the list, with some success. I found five potential stock trades to make today (made one this morning, successfully). I put some things in their storage location. I read a chapter. I cleaned up some papers, putting them in the right recycling bin. When I headed to bed at 11:15 p.m., my breakfast and lunch prepared and packed, needing only to be taken out of the fridge in the morning, I felt good.

But, the one thing not on my to-do list was writing. And it’s not likely to be on it anytime soon. Too much to do in too many areas leave me no time for writing. Oh, I could squeeze out 15 minutes here, maybe even an hour or two on Sunday, and get something done, but it seems pointless. I have no sales of what I’ve already published, and no time to correct a few errors in two of them. And, no time to promote them. Why write more stuff if I can’t properly manage the things I have published now? So the only writing I’ve done in the last three or four months is a little bit of work on a possible family history book in my wife’s family. It was probably time wasted, and what I was able to accomplish has about convinced me that I will never be able to write the book I had in mind. Alas.

One day, I hope, I will be able to return to writing. Creative writing. Novels, non-fiction, Bible studies. One day, I hope, but not now. Not in the foreseeable future.