Sometimes (like, almost always) I roll into Monday morning saying that I know it’s going to be a rough week but really thinking that it’s not going to be that bad. In fact, that might be the only way I can get myself to crawl out of bed on a Monday. I even invoke that philosophy when I should know better. This week, I absolutely know better, and yet I still got up this morning. Why, I’m not sure. Lack of options, I guess.

Somehow, I got through Monday. Now I have only three more Mondays before Friday, which might or might not turn out to be another Monday itself. I know that on one of these looming Mondays, probably Wednesday or Thursday, I’ll have to get in my car and drive a hundred miles in a driving rainstorm to sign yet another piece of paper. This business of starting a new business is really giving me the business.

The only week of the year when I’m busier than the last week in October is the last week in January. That’s only because quarterly payments due in January are compounded by annual payments due at the same time. But I’ve never had a week like this one, when we’re in the final stages of the big push to take over The Kennel as of next Monday. It’s pretty horrible, if you want to know the truth. But worth it! (Or so I have to tell myself.)

All this extra pressure is either good or bad. I haven’t quite decided yet. It forces me to get things done, but it keeps me from getting other things done. I guess I’ll know at the end of the week if it turns out to be a glazed donut or a moldy slab of fruitcake. I’d settle for a hunk of stale zucchini bread, if it comes to that.

Another thing I do, over and over again despite experience that tells me not to, is tell myself I’m going to do something tomorrow. Tomorrow has a way of not showing up on time. There’s always another tomorrow, tomorrow. That’s my deadline syndrome, and it’s coming right down to it. I want to mail my absentee ballot in time for it to be counted. I’m going to have to take care of this as soon as possible. Like, tomorrow.