What ever made me believe I was going to get a lot of work done today? Why do I still believe I can plan my time ahead, even just a day ahead? When has everything unfolded the way I thought it would?

And that’s not even a bad thing. Usually. Something comes up to change the course of another dreary working Saturday, and I’m complaining? If I am, it’s not right. But I was hoping to sleep very, very late this morning. That was going to make up for a long, stressful week.

And then, the phone rang. Early. Not early for most people, but early for me, on a Saturday. It’s my own fault for leaving the ringer on all night, but I’ve felt I had to do that since we were put on bed rest. Well, not all of us, but the ones of us who are pregnant. I can’t miss an important call, no matter what time it comes, just because I have funny sleep patterns.

So I was up, and since I wasn’t awake enough to work, I didn’t. I lounged around the house until it was time to go to the post office, and on my way back I stopped by Tammy and David’s to see the new truck. When I got home, I was tired, so I half-napped while I watched the game. Then it was too late to get started, and after that it got dark and the day was over.

Seriously, I fully intended to get a lot of work done today. Why did I think that was even possible? I should have known better long before the phone rang first thing this morning.

Actually, I would probably have got more work done if I hadn’t come back home and found six pages of typing on the fax machine. That pissed me off so much that I— well, I did it, but I didn’t do anything else on my list. If he wants his six pages on a Saturday, he’s going to have to wait for the cost reports he asked for earlier. That’ll teach him to change my plans for me.