I would actually say those two bins are about even, and they both look like the work bin in the cartoon above. My problem this week is a serious lack of motivation. It isn’t because I don’t want to get things done. More like there are too many things that have to get done, and there are a whole lot that are equally important, and I can’t choose where to start.

Part of the problem might be that last month was a really good month. It was busy, but good busy. This month has started off on the crazy-busy side at the day-job–it’s vacation season: while I was away, one of my co-workers also started her vacation, then right after I got back, another started her vacation, so there have been two of us for a couple of days doing the work of five (did I mention we’re actually short one person on our team right now, too?). There I don’t have a choice but to keep my head down and keep things moving. It’s the rest of the to-dos in the Life bin that I am having difficulty working on. My brain is pretty well fried right now after the day-job, which makes it harder to find the desire to do more.

One of my two vacationing co-workers will be back this week, and the other late next week. That will be good. In the meantime, I could really use some ideas on how to get it together. What do you do when there is too much to do, and not enough brain-power or motivation to do it all?

Before I go try to get a little something done before I crawl into bed, I have a little story snippet for you, from Hunting Medusa.

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“Get off, Harvester,” she whispered.

“Stop calling me that.” He hated hearing it from her lips for some reason. Yes, it was what his name meant. It was what he was destined to do. But the contempt in her tone… He didn’t like it at all.

As though the Medusa had room to be contemptuous of him.

“It’s your name.” Her voice was stronger now, as if she’d somehow sensed his unexpected inner struggle. “Why shouldn’t I use it?”

“You won’t be alive long enough to worry about it.” He ignored her behind against his groin for the moment and took a slow breath, trying to remember his plan.

Get in, find her, kill her, get the amulet, and get out.

Well, his plan was not going very well at all.

He didn’t want to be the first Harvester in so many generations to finally find the Medusa and then fail at his job.

“Really?” She didn’t sound as worried as she should. “I’d have thought a big, strong man like you would have already done the job.”

So would he.

But something in him resisted destroying her.

“Where is the amulet?”

“The what?”

Kallan frowned in the dark. “Don’t play stupid. It’s hardly befitting one of your stature.”

“I don’t know what amulet you’re looking for.”

She didn’t sound as if she was lying. But how would he know? He didn’t know her, and ten minutes on her front porch yesterday afternoon hardly qualified him to make such judgments. He hesitated. If he killed her now, he’d have to spend time tearing up her house to find the goblet, and who knew where she could have hidden it? Or if she’d secured it somewhere else?

“Seriously, Harvester.” Her tone was even more confident now. “No amulet here.”

“You lie. I know the current Medusa always has possession of the amulet.” He tightened his grip on her wrist, but didn’t wrench it higher.

She sighed. “I’m not lying. I think I’d know if someone had sent me an amulet when Cousin Annis died. Instead all I got was PMS from hell and—” She stopped suddenly.

“And?” His heart beat faster, and he realized blood still pulsed steadily from his wounds.

“And a new tattoo,” she whispered.

“A tattoo?” He kept his grip on her wrist. “Where?”

She hesitated.

He pulled her arm upward again and heard her quick gasp.

“My back.”

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Now, if you all would share your ideas to get motivated when I’m exhausted, that would be fantastic. I would really appreciate a little help so I can knock some things off of this very long to-do list.

 

 

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