Should scheduling be a high wire act?
A jelly-kneed feat of daring and recklessness?
A sanity-defying folly?
Chalk up another big, hairy quirk for me.
I’m all tied up in knots on whether to deadline myself or not writing my new book.
If I set a date out there for anything to be done, my OCD perks up and cackles, smelling blood and Chloe-guts in the water.
If I don’t deadline, I fear I’ll drown in perfecting every word.
Yep, it’s a high wire act over a tank of snickering sharks.
I do love the ludicrous blush to my life.
Until Friday (travel day tomorrow)…