I don’t know how it happens. I remember those days right after Kelly and I were married. We’d laze around on Sunday afternoons, wondering what to do. By the time we were through wondering what to do, it was bedtime. Those glorious moments of boredome, my friends, are long gone. There’s so much I want to get done. I want to finish building my bookcase. I want to exercise every day. I want to write for two hours a day (not just one novel, at least two or three at the same time). I want to read for two hours a day, every genre and writing how-to book. I want to spend two hours a day reading His Word. I want to pray for two hours after that. I want to start a men’s group at church. I want to attend more bible studies.
My aspirations aren’t impossible. I’m not looking to climb Mt. McKinley here. But how did things get so crazy? The more determined I am to write the more impossible it seems. I’m hoping I find a buddy to encourage me. We could e-mail each other every day and say “didja get your two hours in?” He’s out there somewhere. I don’t mind a “she,” by the way, but things just go easier with my wife if the person I’m telling my deepest longings to is of a male variety. Many a man has learned that lesson the hard way.
Well, I won’t despair. I’ll write out another daily schedule and stick to it for two days. Then I’ll cry out to God to give me ten more hours in each day. Not much to ask I don’t think.
Did I mention that my next MBA class starts today?