Inexcusable

I should know better by now. The hint of an upcoming article haunts me. Series take me so long to complete, they can’t be called sequential at all. A better explanation is that eventually my ideas find a way of escape.

My intentions are the best. In fact, they are so good they get sketched out again and again like a draftsman crafting a castle. I know it’s hard to believe, but I am a bit obsessive.

For instance, my homework assignment for the past three weeks has been to compile a notebook on Carry On, Mr. Bowditch. I’m supposed to take notes on the five elements of literature in each chapter: setting, characterization, plot, style, and theme. Simple enough. Unless you’re me.

I took six pages of notes on one chapter! This book is for upper elementary grades. Would my twelve-year-old son write that many notes on one chapter? No way!

Needless to say, I’ve realized the error of my ways. Homework for this week was much easier and less time consuming. See, I can relax. Really, I can.

When our computer dubbed, somewhat affectionately, Frankenmachine died, I took deep breaths to calm my heart rate. And as soon the twitching stops, I will be fine.

Our antique laptop dubbed, somewhat affectionately, What is that! is just what I need to slow me down. Because it would be inexcusable if I had the chance to overwhelm you with all my ideas at once.