I'm sitting at my desk. I have two things to do.
One: get ready to teach Ladies' Bible Class in about four hours. I'm 90% done with the lesson, just have a few more things to do. I'll finish with plenty of time because the cat woke me up at 5:30. She claimed she needed food. I pointed at the full kitty food dish. She ignored my hint. She has a very loud meow and so received fresh food, which she sniffed and walked away from. I'm rethinking my desire for a new puppy and second cat.
Two: I'm behind on my writing. There is a calendar next to me (Well, really it's buried under a lot of papers). On it I've jotted down my daily writing schedule. Five pages per day, except for Saturday and Sunday. Those are family days. Should I get to write, that's cushion. I'm ten pages behind (think camping over Memorial Day. Yes, I took my laptop. The charge didn't work. Yes, I took my AlphaSmart. It never left my bag. I spent a lot of time with my two-year-old, and I read Johnny Cash's autobiography).
I'm reading lots of posts, thanks to the June RWR, about writing multiple books a year. My short-term goal is three books a year. To do that, I must, must, must write 5 pages a day. Today, I need to write fifteen. That will catch me up the two days I didn't write: Friday and Monday, and get my Tuesday requirement in. Unfortunately, after not looking at my book for four days, I must go back and reread a lot to get in the mndset of my story (found my calendar, not buried but off to the side).