“I survived because I was tougher than everyone else.” Bette Davis
I can claim “tough”.
I served 14.5 years in the U.S. Army (including a stint in the Middle East during the Gulf War), plus another 7 in the Guard.
I gave birth to a 10.5 pound kid without so much as an aspirin.
I worked full time, wrote full time, and put up with a 3-hour commute each day.
So why do I want to whine like a 5-year-old because I’m up at the butt-crack of dawn now and can’t go back to sleep?
It’s my own damn fault. I looked at my calendar, carved up what I still had to accomplish for the rest of the month, then did a little backward planning to come up with my To Do list for the next few days. Today’s has a hellish 30 items I need to get through to keep on track. I’ve been making great headway on the Viking story, but shoved everything else aside this week to make sure I kept focused on goal #1, but I can’t afford to let all the other little things slide either. They add up. And they keep my edgy.
So, here I am at O-dark-thirty, getting the the first thing scratched off my battle list. And if I’m reverting to Army-speak, it’s because I feel like I need to roll out today like I’m getting ready to cross the LD (the line designated to coordinate the departure of attack elements). Hooah!