11 Sep A post about not publishing a post
This afternoon I tapped out a quick 1,700 words about being busy and the need for time management. I could have added another thousand words on the topic.
I took a break from the laptop though when the kids started trickling in from school. While I went about the business of assisting with snacks and homework, wrangling neighbor kids, sitting through a soccer game in the 180 degree weather, picking up kids at a church thing, dropping a kid at another church thing, feeding all six of us leftover lasagna, a seed of doubt about my post sprouted in my gut and grew into a towering tree of doubt.
It’s not that I won’t ever publish that post. Probably next week, you’ll see pieces of it. It’s just that TODAY I feel like I have absolutely no idea what I am talking about when I talk about time management!
And I am in one of those “just GET OVER yourself already” moods where I don’t think I can stomach having you read words, that were somehow born in my brain, about how to manage time.
One reason for my weak stomach about the post – there are a whole lot of control issues that go along with organizing time and managing schedules. A fine line lies between the sane/organized woman and the psycho/inflexible one. I need some time to pray about releasing control.
Another reason the seed grew up so quickly to a tree was – can you guess? The nonstop Syriachatter everywhere. The situation kinda stinks.
It’s sad and heavy. Hopeless. Is there any good solution? Any justifiable answer?
Oh, it’s also 9/11, which added to the cheerful news banter all day.
So, while I was cozied up with my computer today yabbing away about my “hectic” life – you know, the horrible one I lead as an employed, educated, white, middle-class, American woman – I felt a tad shallow.
For the innocents in Syria, and all over the world, who have no idea about the wealthy, easy, cushy gigs we got going on over here. For all those who currently are suffering through REAL problems (sweating at a soccer game, having to drive my healthy kids to and fro, being forced to eat the same meal again tonight that I ate yesterday would most likely NOT be considered hardships to most people).
For them, I say: I am sorry. I do have compassion. Really. A lot of people have compassion. Sometimes my daily life blinds me. The way I conduct life most of the time in Middle-Class-Comfyville breeds self-centeredness. I am sorry. I will try to bitch and moan a little less and peel my eyes off myself so I can figure out ways to reach others with hope.