She’s been there – oh, ever since about age 24. She’s the To-Do List that runs off the page. She’s a million errands. She’s the partially finished project scattered on the kitchen table.
She’s the stab of guilt every time my eyes fall on a pile of dust bunnies under the couch, or the caked-on grime along the edge of the bathroom baseboard.
The busy beast isn’t very friendly.
She yells, “Go, go, go! Faster! What about that stuff you said you’d do yesterday?”
“How much did you get done today?” she sneers as I brush my teeth in preparation for bed.
The busy beast thinks Continue reading