I'm not incompetent . . . really

1. Sleep in until 6:00 a.m.
2. Realize I’ve slept in and jump out of bed.
3. Check the cows.
4. Start having a panic attack about all of the work that needs to be done today.
5. Write my blog first.

Sometimes I feel like I’m living a stand-up comedy routine.

I’ve been trying to get an ad to a potential customer and thankfully he has a good sense of humour. For some reason the three emails I’ve sent him never arrived, so we decided I should send it by fax. I spent a day with the page sitting in the fax on re-dial and it never went through. Yesterday I had to be in Winnipeg to finalize details of the paper that I am working on frantically in an effort to finish. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I do the paper for the Manitoba Cattle Producers Association which means I sell and typeset the ads, do the page layout, source the articles, edit and write. It’s a huge job and I love it.

So yesterday I am at the office and suddenly remember that the fax I’ve been trying to send is still sitting in the fax machine at home. The paper goes to print TODAY, so I was running short of time. I phoned the potential customer and told him that I would try faxing it again. I double checked his fax number. I was heading for the fax machine, when someone I needed to interview walked in the door. We do the interview and then I took a few phone calls. I checked my emails. A few things I’ve been worried about were there in my inbox. Hallelujah! I started working on page layout. A few hours passed and, heart lurching in my chest, I suddenly remembered the fax. I began searching through the mounds of paper on the table where I was working (I left out details of the other 400 distractions that took place) and I was just about to stand up when the President walked in. Not the President of the United States, but the President of our Association, Martin Unrau. He was there for a conference call that was going to start in 10 minutes. Martin was carrying a box of donuts. It was 3:00 p.m. My mind instantly went into donut mode as the devil on one shoulder said, “Eat a donut.” The angel on the other shoulder said, “Your diet isn’t going that well. Resist the donut.” The devil said, “But you’ll hurt Martin’s feelings.” Imagine, the Devil being worried about Martin’s feelings. It didn’t help that Martin actually said, “Karen looks like she needs a donut.” Maybe it was the way I was staring at the box, I don’t know.

So I ate a donut. The conference call began and ended, then Martin and I discussed his editorial comment for the month. My mind was whirling with details of things that needed to be done. I’m was tired because I spent the night at my niece’s apartment and didn’t get much sleep because the two cats harassed me all night. I’m not used to having one cat sleeping beside/on my head, and another on my chest. I flung them off the bed a few times, but you know cats, they just keep coming back.

So I ate another donut. I was halfway home when I realize that I never did send that fax. By the time I got in the door and had my computer and files unpacked, it was 9:00 p.m. I pulled out the note I’d made earlier and re-checked the fax number. I’d transposed two of the numbers, so for the past few days my machine was re-dialing some poor old lady in Winkler.

But today is a new day and I am optimistic that sequestered away from distraction I will actually get this paper done. Unless of course something interesting happens . . . and the chances of that are actually pretty good.