Monday.  This week on Thursday, I have to speak at the Daughters of the Revolution.  

I am the world's worst procrastinator and have not written a speech yet.  

All I've done is worry about it.  I've got to get something on paper.

And of course, being a woman, I am wondering what I will wear.  I went to a Mexican restaurant with my class last week and was so hungry I ate the cheese dip with a spoon.  I gained three pounds and anything I might have wanted to wear isn't going to fit.  

I don't think I can lose it all in four days, but I'm going to give it the old college try. 

I don't want to wish my life away, but when I have anything hanging over me that I have to do, I just want it over with.  Dentist, grocery shopping, getting gas, or giving a speech.  Whatever.

You feel like you are tied down to "that day." It's looming over you. 

I used to be able to do a zillion things every week:  Four kids, teach at a college 55 miles away from my house every day.  Grade papers.  Cook meals.  Wash, dry, sort, put away.  Now I can be made anxious by only one thing.

Maybe I wash a load every two weeks .  I don't cook.  I'm retired, so no papers to grade.  Maybe the problem is that I have too much time on my hands?  So I'm not forced into a schedule?  Maybe I need to make one out.