Targetless

I'm exhausted.  Too many things on my plate.  I sold my first pieces on eBay (really, they all sold) and I'm packing things up even as I type (well, it feels that way, anyway).  I drove and drove and drove on Saturday, and though I found a second bomber jacket (for a buck!), a couple of stray gold earrings (singles - one with a heart-shaped garnet that is to die for), and a truly fun Mr. Bill stickpin ("oh no!") mostly I picked up a whole lot of nothing.  Since I spent the rest of the day tutoring, babysitting Princess, prepering for and going to a friend's birthday party, and trying to figure out how to get a postage gizmo on my eBay listing (they don't do it any more), then followed up with a 15-hour work day on Sunday ... yeah, it's no wonder I curled up with a bag of Oreos, pizza Goldfish, and 6 hours of recorded (in April) TV yesterday.

I need to prioritize - things are sliding left and right.  I have a hole in my bathroom wall and a garden made of weeds.  I haven't walked more than twice a week in months.  And the Big Lug is looking frayed around the edges because of my ... I don't even know what this is.  ToDo needs to go bye-bye while I need to simply focus on what I can do for the next week or so, one thing at a time, as I need to  instead of want to.  Yes, I'll hit a thrift shop or two, but mostly I'll deal with my responsibilities - and only my responsibilities - to my job(s), my house, my husband, and my health.

Treasure be damned.  For the next month or so, there are more important things than filthy lucre.

There has to be.