I know mine are.
When I was growing up, my father's father used to call my brother "One Long Gut" because he could put away food as if he had no limiters on his stomach capacity.
My stomach's not my problem (well, maybe it is, but that's not a topic for this blog!), but my persistent belief that I have time to do everything that crosses my mind to do has been proven painfully wrong lately.
After deciding I'd do the #AugustBreak2016 challenge, my work schedule picked up, I started reading for the fall semester, I picked up a couple of stories for the paper, I spent way too much time figuring out what to put in the art show, and I started doing more at-home cooking than I'd done in a very long time. That last has paid off in better health - a huge plus! - but cooking instructions that don't all begin with "cut 1" slit in film" takes a lot more time and attention than cooking that does start that way.
I did manage to take a few pictures here and there, but I did not succeed at the daily prompts.
My desire to do it all met my real schedule and energy level and - despite what Paula Abdul sang so many years ago - those opposites did *not* attract.
A close friend has commented fairly often over the past several years that I'm always go-go-going. I've recognized at last that she's right and I need to look at why I take on so darn much. The reason may be no more than they are for any other woman my age or older who takes on too much: inability to say no for fear we won't be liked or approved of, and the need for approval in my peers runs deep. I thought I'd outgrown that need after hitting an age milestone a few years ago, at which time I threw away my vocal filter and much of my wardrobe in favor of words and an appearance that better matched my thinking.
It seems I've still got work to do.