I've been doing an inventory of the things I need to accomplish today. It's quite an inventory. When I actually sit down with the planner to prioritize my day in a few minutes, I'm sure I will suffer a minor panic attack, followed by a mild case of situational depression. At the moment, the only thing that's keeping me moving is a flat, left-over Diet Coke from McDonald's. (Don't feel too sorry for me. I prefer flat carbonated beverages. It's one of my many eccentricities.)
I'm not exactly sure how to attack today's work. There's so much of it. Usually, I try to identify the things I want to do the least, and then I try to do those things first. If I do that, the rest of the work doesn't seem quite for onerous. I'm thinking that doing the surgical schedulings and report filing is going to be pretty near the top. Then comes the grading. Then comes...well, everything else.
I often wonder how saints and holy people ever dealt with the horrible tasks God asked them to do. I mean, I wonder if Mother Teresa ever woke up in the morning and felt like just rolling over on her bed or straw (or whatever she slept on) and pulling the blanket over her head, thinking "No more lepers today." That's a question I ponder a lot. Do holy people get tired of being holy? I've never read about a saint taking a vacation to Disney World, that's for sure. Can you imagine the commercial: Saint Francis of Assisi wearing Mickey Mouse ears and riding Space Mountain? Nope, me either.
Well, no rest for the wicked or holy, I guess.
Saint Marty isn't sure which category he falls into this morning.
|Mother Teresa's idea of a vacation|