Twerping about trying to do everything at once and accomplishing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING whilst listing to the whooshing sound of deadlines whizzing past

Which is how I seem to spend most of my life. I remember reading somewhere years ago that there are two kinds of workaholic: 1) those obsessed with work who do little else and think of nothing else, spend EVERY hour working and accomplish a great deal; and, 2) those who are obsessed with work, but do none of it, instead choosing to obsess about what they SHOULD be doing right now but AREN'T and accomplish next to nothing. But not for lack of planning to do something. Eventually.

I definitely fall into category #2. Sometimes this works for me. I can get a room shining spic and span in jig time, if I should really be preparing my tax return right now. Or practice music with a fierce intensity if I should really be cleaning a room. Or finally get that work bench organized if I should really be practicing music. You get my drift. All of these things may need doing, but I am only able to focus on something other than that which should be the current priority. Perhaps it's my inner child stamping her foot saying, "You're not the boss of me!" to my schedule. I don't know. I just know I wallow in self-loathing at my scheduling ineptitude most of the time.

But after reading a few blogs this weekend (in lieu of other things I really SHOULD have been doing at the time), I feel a little bit better, for it appears I have company. Wonderful, lovely, people-you'd-gladly-invite-to-dinner company, all of whom are blundeirng their way through life just as I am.

Antonia, of Whoopee fame, shares my housecleaning methods. (Sadly, I don't share her artistic abilities.)

Jaywalker, self-described eurodrone, unfit mother and slattern at Belgian Waffle seems to be my long-lost twin who makes the same kind of self-defeating choices (again and again) as I do. (Sadly, no mexican wrestling tortoises to be found chez nous.)

And Anna at Little Red Boat shares my inability to avoid multitasking into utter, utter chaos. Her post describes my work style to a 't.' (Sadly, my writing lacks her charm and humour.)

Above mentioned work style, it should come as no surprise to you, dear, gentle readers, I have hiterto referred to as "twerping about trying to do everything at once and accomplishing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING whilst listing to the whooshing sound of deadlines whizzing past." But no more. For in the comments on Anna's post linked above, the lovely Mrs. Jones of Mrs. Jones Home Thoughts from Home has provided me with a new, improved, infinitely more charming label for habit of flitting from one uncompleted task to the next.

Henceforth I shall call it "butterflying."

I think that's much nicer, don't you?

And now I must go watch another episode of "Grey's Anatomy," while penciling in notes on German phonics into my "Eine deutsches Requiem" score, while trying to figure out that pesky HTML problem with the choir website, while snacking on Nutella and whatever I can find to spread it on, before I succumb to the siren call of the washing machine, which is what I should really be doing if I want to wear clothing when I leave the house for work this week.

(SHE FLUTTERS OFF, STAGE LEFT)