White Rabbit Syndrome

"Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!"

I like to think my continued tardiness throughout life is because I was born late.  But because I'm adopted, I have no idea how close I was born to my "due date," so the excuse doesn't really work.  Nevertheless, that isn't going to stop me from using it, nor will I suddenly change to one of those people who would be on time, even if their house caught fire as they were leaving and their car broke down on the way.  (God forbid that would happen to anyone!)

It's not that I'm late for everything.  And I do have an excuse today for being late.  Or several excuses, if that works better.

1. I was up late last night trying to plot a new story that apparently doesn't want to be plotted.
2. My daughter decided to organize the hall closet that contains everything from shampoo and cotton swabs to furniture polish and hair color.  She did a great job, but after showing me how good it looked, she announced my office needed organizing.  Oh, no!!  I had to physically restrain her from opening the drawers in my desk, and then I physically restrained myself as she searched my bookcase for a book to read.  My parting goodnight included, "Just turn off the light when you leave the room."
3. I've already written one blog post today (topic: writing struggles) and was late with it, too.

I can plan and schedule all I want, but something will always come along and throw a monkey wrench into the works.  Just what is a monkey wrench, anyway? 
Case in point:  Saturday nights are usually spent at my oldest daughter's house, where we enjoy dinner cooked by said daughter and a lot of chit-chatting about everything from the weather to politics to soap operas.  (I quit watching soaps long, long ago.)  But this past Saturday, she and her daugher had a baby shower to attend, so I planned to finish that plotting I mentioned earlier. 

(Time out to show how crazy life is here at Rancho Delaney)
Mid-day and knowing we'd be spending the evening in, my youngest announced, "There's nothing on!" as she scrolled through the menu of cable offerings.  I revised her statement to, "There's nothing that I want to watch," and reminded her that in addition to the hundreds of cable channels, there's also On Demand, Netflix, and our 400 or so DVDs, including her entire collection of Harry Potter and Buffy.  Some people just can't be pleased.

(Back to the monkey wrench...)
About seven p.m., our usual time to go to oldest's for dinner, granddaughter called and said they were on their way home from the shower and we could come over.  I should've stayed and continued the plotting, but to tell the truth, my eyes were beginning to cross as I juggled scenes on my storyboard.  Besides, I always enjoy time with family.

In a nutshell, I was able to amend my usual schedule of Saturdays with family, and instead planned to work on current WIP.  Schedule fixed.  However, new plan was interrupted and changed again when granddaughter called to say, "Come on over!" 

To quote Rosanna Roseannadanna, "It's always something."

And that's what really causes White Rabbit Syndrome.  That and being born late. ;)