I have two speeds: whirling dervish of efficiency and nervous energy or giant tortoise meandering through molasses.
And the speed is almost entirely determined by the amount of work on my plate.
In high school, I would work myself into the ground and get less than five hours of sleep for weeks on end. One more thing never seemed like much of a bother because the list was so long anyway, and one more hour of work felt like nothing. My room was neat as a pin, and I would do crazy things like climb onto the roof and clean the outside of my bedroom windows.
And then there’s Tortoise Ella. Tortoise Ella does things like stare at the wall, pile clothing in wicker baskets in the bathroom, leave mugs on the table, and spend ten minutes trying to come up with a way to avoid having to get the paper from the end of the driveway because that would require putting on an outfit that isn’t comprised of nightclothes. She also sleeps like an infant and forgets to eat lunch.
Currently, I’m at the latter speed. I’m behind on blog commenting and my room looks like my dresser and bookshelf both got the flu and regurgitated their contents all over the room. (You’ll have to excuse the vomit metaphor. Max puked this evening, and I unfortunately still have throw up on the brain.)
But tomorrow! Tomorrow, I tell you! Tomorrow, I will start to shift gears. I may be a whirling tortoise instead of dervish, but that’s okay.
In other news, Pippa is dragging me to The Hunger Games midnight premiere tomorrow. I have less than 24 hours to read the book.