Slow Learner

Remember how I wasn't sure if I had had a "breast cancer survivor's epiphany" or not after I finished surgery, chemo and radiation? And then remember how I thought maybe I had because I learned a little about prioritizing my time (click here if you need a refresher)? When I went through the breast cancer odyssey I pretty much reduced my life to work and taking care of my health. And wow, I had all this time on my hands and the whole big world, my little town, my little world and pretty much everything else went on just fine without me. Huh. Post-treatment I ramped back up (dork!) and then suddenly hit a wall with way, way too much stuff going on and that's when I had the little epiphany about time management and prioritizing what was important to me. I scheduled things so I had time to exercise, read, write, and still work quite a bit (I am still building a business). Cue the maniacal laughter.

Old habits die hard. And it seems I did it again.

Today, Chris and Brein Clements (genius chef and proprietor of Restaurant Omakase) are down in San Diego at a Family Winemakers tasting event. I was supposed to go but couldn't. Because I, (once I finish blogging and am sufficiently amped on coffee) will be heading into my office to try to get a jump start on the week. Because my schedule has and will in the immediate future look like this:

Wednesday the 10th: film public service announcement for the Riverside Public Library Foundation (I'm on the board)

 Friday the 12th : in Burbank all day at a conference for work (where I also volunteered to serve on a committee).

Saturday the 13th: 1st birthday party for my assistant's son, followed by several hours in the office

Monday: Shop to Stop Breast Cancer event; I'm the honorary chair and am supposed to say something to the room of 200 women and I bet they expect something inspirational or at least moderately coherent. (Must figure this out today).

Tuesday evening : Seminar for my clients about the 2010 estate tax laws and other fascinating bits. Again, I think they'll expect me to be coherent (must figure this out today).

Wednesday evening: meeting with city manager (on a client's behalf). Probably good if I'm coherent.

Thurs a.m.: breakfast seminar for clients (see Tuesday evening and general need for coherency)

Saturday: Walk With the Animals (fundraiser for the Riverside Humane Society)--I am the master of ceremonies and will need to be there for the day.

Sunday: memoir writing class at the Mission Inn (okay, this one actually should be on the list!!).

Tuesday the 23rd: Professionals and Community Leaders luncheon for the benefit of Alternatives to Domestic Violence (I'm the chairperson of the lunch and a member of the board of directors)

Have I lost my freakin' mind??  Yes, yes I have. When you consider that I have to prepare speeches (or at least something) for most of those events, get sponsors, sell tickets, and generally know what the hell is going on, it's just a stupid, stupid schedule. It's like I can't look at the calendar as a whole and say "no, I don't actually have time for that." Instead I look at the 2 hour time slot of an event and say "Well, yes, I'm free those two hours and therefore I can commit to 20 or 30 hours of work before that and there is no reason for me to see what the rest of that day, week, month looks like! Yes, of course I'll help! What? Be in charge? Why yes, yes I can!"

The good news is after fundraising for no less than 3 major events in one month, I have no friends left. They are all avoiding my calls and emails and have blocked me on Facebook. This is good news, because it makes me completely useless as a fundraiser in the future. This, combined with the fact that my board terms are all up (and shall not be renewed!!!) in June (2 of them) and December (the other 2) should give me my life back.  This is the plan (again).

Slow, slow, slow learner.

I really should take a page out of Seamus's book and just chill.

P.S. Don't get me wrong, I love these agencies and the work they do. (That's part of the problem!). I'm not loving my inability to find balance.