Do you ever find there’s just not enough time in the day? The hours fly by and you wonder why you haven’t done “enough”. That’s how it seems to me ALL the time. The weeks pass and my list–okay, lists–don’t seem to get any smaller. I suppose I could get people to help me, but nobody gets things done the same way I would. Control freak much? No, not me.

So I got to thinking. Dangerous, I know. But, how cool it would be if I had The Machine and could multiply myself? There would be so many MEs, everything would get done. Oh, happy day! Here’s who I’d create:

Writer Me: I’d be able to write all day and night without interruption, maybe read a craft book here and there, attend writers conferences, and of course read to my heart’s content. Complete heaven. (I’m already loving The Machine.)

Social Me: To hang out with the girls, spend quality time with the fam, scrapbook those photos that are accumulating dust (and the ones stuck in cyberspace/ofoto), shop, see a movie, travel, etc. So much fun to be had–having two MEs totally rocks!

Healthy Me: So I can juice up veggies daily, workout regularly, prepare healthy meals, get a facial, and get mani/pedis. Yes, I can count manicured nails. Getting my nails done makes me happy and thus, mentally healthy.

Cleaning Me: To pick up the house, do the dishes, fold the laundry, rub down the espresso machine (I just love when the stainless steel’s all shiny), vacuum, sweep, and dust. Ahhhh, a clean house is THE BEST.

You know what? I think that’s all I’d make. Four MEs and I’d be one happy girl. Everything on the lists would get done–yay! Maybe I’m not as far behind as I thought (yeah, right). Ooo-kay (I’m sighing), since I don’t have The Machine and currently there’s only one ME, I’d better stop blogging and get to work.

Tell me this though. If you could have multiple YOUs . . . who would you pick?

I’m sitting at the clubhouse, trying to write in relative peace and quiet (unlike at home), and I can’t quite get comfy. Yeah, I have a view of the lake, the mountains, blah blah blah. But I’ve kicked my shoes off and want to sit cross-legged in my chair as I type–and the table’s not tall enough! Or the chair’s not short enough if you want to look at it that way.

Come to think of it, this looks like some sort of “game” table. I originally thought the octagon shape was for looks and the cupholders around the table were for heavy drinkers who have to double-fist it.

But when I try crossing my legs again (stubborn, I know), I notice these little drawers. I’m supposed to be working on my wip, Dear Chelsea, but I can’t help opening the drawer. There are organized wooden rows that appear to be for poker chips or something. Is this a poker table?

Oh, wait. A clue. Etched into the leather finish on top of the table is a “spade” with some kind of circle around it and the number “seven” on either side. What the heck could those be for?

Man, these leather chairs are comfy. Guess what?! I’ve managed to bring my legs up and am sitting cross-legged - yay! As long as I don’t breathe deeply, I think I can stay like this while I type. Good thing I didn’t wear tight jeans today.

I really need to get back to my manuscript but am stuck with my chin on my fist, staring out at the vista and wondering what kind of card game this table’s for. Nobody can be expected to write with this kind of distraction. If you have any guesses, let me know. I’m not procrastinating, I swear. But if you happen to let me know your favorite games, it’s only polite of me to read and respond. Right? So, go for it. I’m all ears.

A wise man once said “I wear the pants in my family, my wife just tells me which ones to wear.” Okay, it wasn’t a wise man just some random guy. But let’s face it, with that mindset he probably gets a new set of golf clubs for his birthday every year and nightly foot rubs. So where’s the Even Steven in wearing the pants?

Not with Netflix. At least not in my house. Don’t give me that look. I tried to support the local independent video store, okay?. Really, I did. I rented two movies for like eight bucks and they were due back on Monday. No, I didn’t forget when they were due, but it was in the 20s (degrees for you warmer climated people), and it was snowing. Brrrr. Seriously, I could not be expected to leave my warm house to return two DVDs–one of which we hadn’t had time to watch yet. So I vowed to return them on Tuesday.

That’s the day I honestly forgot to return them. Whatever. I’m not cut out for DVD deadlines. I returned them on Wednesday and asked how much I owed in late fees rather than waiting till next time (it’s not hard to track you down like a rabid dog in small towns like I now live in…remember that paper boy from Better off Dead who wanted his TWO DOLLARS? Don’t want that happening to me, thank you very much.). So I paid my $6.50 in late fees and went on my way. Now, you don’t have to be a math genius to see this relationship was not working out. In total, I paid $14.50 to rent two movies, one of which I never had time to watch. $14.50 to watch Click once. Now, Adam Sandler had some funny lines in it and there was that cute Kate Spade handbag Kate Beckinsale received, but was it worth $14.50? If you haven’t guessed the answer yet, it’s nah-ah, no way. Here is where Netflix comes in ($14.99/month, two DVDs at a time, no deadlines) and thus enters my dilemma with wearing the pants.

Now, even though I applaud the above-mentioned wise man, I freely admit that I’m an equal opportunity pants wearer. As in you pick one movie, I pick the next. Sounds fair to me. Last night, I graciously watched the movie my hubby picked so tonight I suggested we watch The Break-Up (got it for my b-day, thanks Christa!), knowing my other half enjoys Vince Vaughn movies too. Surprisingly, my hubster says “Nah, we have to return that other Netflix DVD to receive the next one in line so let’s just watch that tonight.” Logical, you are thinking, but please note he picked both those Netflix movies and the Netflix do not stop coming. Whatever. I can let him have the pants a bit longer–after all, I put the first season of Veronica Mars as my #1 choice for the next Netflix (anyone seen that? is it any good?), and so I’ll pretty much monopolize the DVDs for the next month. So, no prob. Right? Wrong.

When I innocently pull up Netflix to browse some more choices (adding to your Queue is addicting–you Netflix users know what I mean), Veronica Mars is no longer at #1. What is, you ask? Warren Miller’s: Cold Fusion. Before you ask, I did not pick this. So I went to my hubby, asked what happened to Veronica Mars and he replies “It’s Warren Miller” (translation: he does not want to return the pants). I give him the look and suggest we watch The Break-Up tonight after all. He says “Okay.” Sometimes, you just have to take the pants back.

So, are you a pants wearer, a pants sharer, or do you just turn over the pants?

Now a days, just about everybody and their mother has a blog.  Right?  If you’re saying “Well, I don’t”, that’s fine…you can read mine ! 

I have friends who journal online about their lives, friends who blog about how to be a better writer, and friends who just randomly blog whatever comes to their mind (yes, I’m included in that one).  This week, I decided to create a sidebar called “Favorite Blogs” that lists some blogs I like to visit.

 Feel free to check them out and let me know what you think.