Contest Schmontest

It's official.  We suck.

Week seven of the trivia/riddle contest started today.  I think it's safe to say we're out of the running for the million.  Just as I suspected, I've had nowhere near the free time needed to do the level of research required.  By comparing our answers and points against others in the forums, we've missed quite a few so far.  Some were ridiculous wild guesses that others were lucky enough to make correctly, and some were so damn obvious that I could just kick myself in the ass for missing them.

I plan to stick it out till the end, but I have accepted defeat nonetheless.  Sigh.  Maybe in a few years they'll have another one.  When Punky is older.  When work is less hectic.  When life is less crazy.  Around 2018 sounds like a good time.

I'm starting to wonder if I just suck at time management.  I've always thought of myself as organized.  Efficient.  On top of things.  These days it seems like my to-do list keeps growing and growing.  For every item I manage to cross off, six more suddenly appear.  I don't know how others do it.  Between work, Punky, household chores, and whatever personal hygeine I can sneak in, there really isn't a lot of time left over for much.  My recent lapse in blogging confirms that.

I know, it will get better.  I guess I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed with the holidays approaching and all the crap that needs to get done between now and then.  Seems like I throw myself this same pity-party every year around this time.  I need to get it out of my system.  I need to whine.  Moan.  Groan.  Complain.  It clears my head so I can re-organize and get shit done.

Okay.  There.  I'm over it.  See how quick and relatively painless that bitch session was?  Look out to-do list, here I come!

Right after I finish eating my lunch.  And work another four hours.  And drive thirty-five minutes home plus a quick stop for gas on the way.  And make dinner.  And do the dishes.  And give Punky a bath.  And then play with her, of course.  And get her ready for bed.  And get me ready for bed.  And run around picking up all the toys that ended up scattered all over the house.  And set the coffee up for the morning.

Then, to-do list, your ass is mine...for about fifteen minutes before I say screw it, I'm tired, and tomorrow's another day.