The Dreadline

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.  Douglas Adams

I never have understood that quote. I've never missed a deadline in my life. Not as a student, not at work, not as an author. I completed edits for Chasing Sunset early so having kid number 2 didn't interfere with turning in the work on time. I've always thought the due date was the due date--end of story.

I was discussing this with hubby the other day when he was trying to tell me not to worry so much if I miss the deadline for turning in my Market Watch column for RWAs Hearts Talk mag. I repeated my history--"I've never missed a deadline in my life", to which hubby promptly responded:

"Except your own."

I'm chagrinned to have to conceed a point there. I've set three deadlines for myself to have the current WIP complete and have missed every single one of them. First it was the end of 2010, a sort of symbolic up yours to writers block. I wouldn't have had to say I didn't finish a thing in 2010. But Christmas came and interrupted my writer's flow. Whatchagonnado? Then it was the end of January, which I thought was nice and generous--a whole additional month to get things under control. Alas, I found Queensland's apocolyptic weather situation a might distracting, not to mention the usual January stuff of preparing the Princess for her return to school. Amazing how much time that takes up. Then last week I promised the Divas I'd have the firemen ready for thier perusal--err, critique--by Sunday.

I'm currently hiding from the Divas, hoping they'll forget what I said.

Hubby suggests I prioritize my own deadlines as highly as I do those set by others, but sometimes there aren't enough hours in the day or ions of energy (atoms? molecules?) to meet them all. Something's got to slip and let's face it, women tend to make sure it's their own stuff that suffers rather than anyone else's. God forbid another person should be inconvenienced by our inability to do every bloody thing in the world in the shortest possible time frame.

So a change of priorities is, perhaps, in order. Set my own deadlines first and let everyone else's crap fall in around it. I honestly don't see how that would work, but I'm going to try and wrap my head around it and see how I go.

Now, back to the two little screaming deadlines who are hungry for dinner. How, exactly, does one tell them to wait their turn? Hmm?

Sami