In denial

I spent yesterday morning thinking it was the first of March. Pretending is probably a better word. But hey, it worked. I managed to get the kids to school on-time, have an enjoyable couple of hours and not think of the book. And then I got an RSVP to the upcoming first communion dinner and reality came crashing back. May 1, not March 1. I don't have two and half months to write my book. I have three weeks left. The first communion dinner is now up to 42 guests, and it's this Saturday. And we won't even talk about how much work I have to do around the house by then.

Panicked? You bet.

Overwhelmed? You can't imagine.

I'm making myself go to bed by midnight this week. I can't afford to get sick before Saturday. Come Sunday, the late nights will begin. I'm just praying the pages follow!

Last Mother's Day, my husband gave me a gift certificate for a facial and massage. I've yet to use it. Somehow I need to squeeze that in, too, or it will expire. That would be a pretty pathetic statement of my life if I let that happen.

And on top of everything, I'm on a diet. No gluten. No sugar. No chocolate. A deadline with no chocolate. I truly am a masochist.