I couldn't think of a better title, so there it is. And it's true.
Most of you know I've been working on this blanket to give as a Christmas gift. Well, it became painfully apparent to me over the weekend that it just. ain't. gonna. happen.
Not for Christmas anyway.
Instead, I will surprise the recipient sometime early in the new year, with a gift they totally weren't expecting. That's nice, right? I mean, who doesn't like getting a present 'just cuz'?
But, even though the pressure's off (which is a bit of relief, I'll admit) I hate the thought of falling short of my own goal. Gah, I really hate it. I don't like failure. I never have. That's why I don't play golf (aside from the fact that I HATE golf, that is). I suck at it. I'm so awful at it that I don't even like miniature golf. How's that for hatred of a non-sport sport. (And no one will ever convince me golf is a sport, so don't even argue that point, mmkay???)
So, it's bothering me that I don't have another 6 weeks to work on this blanket - it'd probably get done if I did. But, real life, NaNo, a chatterbox freakin' muse, and a several manuscript drafts have completely and totally clobbered me this year. Too much to do and not nearly enough time. Throw in the the Girl's CCD and Girl Scouts, the Boy's therapies and rounds upon rounds of school evaluations, and a husband who, while 100% supportive of this crazy career I've chosen, would still like to see me every once in a while (and that's something you never take for granted!) and it all adds up to one big where the hell did the last three months go???
But, on the other hand, the blanket will get done. As will the other projects that are threatening to drive me completely freakin' looney. And one day (God willing), I will look back at this last year and laugh about it.
Or so I hope.