Today I made time.

I didn’t have much time. My other had dinner in the oven and I’d just returned from errands which included a four mile run to pick up our car from the Uhaul store where we dropped it off last night to have a hitch put on. We need the hitch for our trip to CA to pick up my 18 year old son who is moving home. Then, I stopped off at the pet store to buy a crate that might contain our escape artist not yet potty trained puppy, Maverick. The night ahead would mean for me some concentrated hours of grading if I’m going to get work back in time to wrap up the semester in a meaningful way. I probably only had 45 minutes tops until it would be time to eat and then get down to work.
How many times have I wasted a sweet chunk of time like that?
Not tonight, though. I sat down, opened my story and wrote until dinner. I didn’t check my email or spend my time pacing around moping about the limited amount of time I had and the long list of tasks I needed to do. It wasn’t much time and I didn’t write much, but how I wrote and that I wrote seem crucial upon reflection.


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