Is there anyone who can arrange more hours in the day for me? I’ll pay you! No, I don’t need a “Survival Guide for Busy Folks” or a new pocket organizer. I am the Queen of Organization! I need more hours. Maybe a 28-hour day would help. 32 would be better.

My to-do list is trailing off my desk like Santa’s gift list in December.

I’m usually good under pressure. As a matter of fact, deadlines feed my soul. I admit, most of my deadlines are self-imposed, but that’s how I get things done. And I get a whole lot of things done – I think. I may have too many irons in the fire right now because I’ve apparently added a few new hats to my job closet.

1) I am a full-time musician. I work late nights and don’t sleep well because I keep changing my bedtime hours throughout the week. Sometime I crawl in bed at 8:00 p.m., and sometimes I don’t go to bed until 4:00 a.m. That job also requires daytime hours for rehearsal and scheduling. I would like an extra two hours added to the music portion of my day.

2) I write. Books. Not just any books – historical fiction books. Anyone who has ever written anything of length knows how insanely time consuming it is. Now add to that hours and hours of research to make sure the historical part of the story is legitimate. I admit I go off on tangents. I’ll hunt for information on a website, click on every link, and look up to find it’s three hours later. I love web surfing. I also have a bad habit of getting side-tracked on Ancestry.com and FindAGrave.com when I simply go there to check a wedding date or a death date. Rewrites, editing, proofreading, formatting, designing covers? Three more hours a day would help.

3) I am my own publisher/publicist/agent/video trailer producer/audio book narrator/etc. I don’t even know how much time is spent doing that stuff. It’s a ridiculous amount. I don’t mind doing it, I just need about four more hours a day.

4) Blogging? Ugh. I’m a slacker. It’s true. No amount of time will fix that.

5) Wife and mother? Ha. Yeah, that cooking thing? Not so much. And you can do your own laundry. Do mine while you’re at it. And somebody pick up some milk.

Ok, rant over. I have to go brush my dog now. Poor little guy.