With the best of intentions

Commitment is a funny thing.

And something I can't commit to.

No matter how hard I try, I can't keep doing things until they're all done for fear of leaving myself with nothing left to do.  (I shall skip over the fact that, as a teacher, such a status is non-existent.)  And so, one menial task could take weeks to get done just because I have nothing left on the list once that's finished.

Am I really so afraid of chore freedom that I have to let things build up until I reach crisis point, stick to my newly appointed regime for a week or so and then start the process all over again?  I'm the kind of person that enjoys relaxing and taking time out for herself, whether to read a book, or watch some TV or just to grab a coffee with some friends.  It's almost as though I purposely do such nice things so that I can feel guilty about it afterwards when I return to paper mountain.  Why not just keep on top of the menial things like filing and the washing up, and then enjoy my life?

If I knew the answer to this, I'd be a very rich person.  If you're reading this and know the answer, are you a very rich person?  If not, you should be.  I'm not sure me rewarding you financially for such a secret will make you rich, but should you care to share anyway: please do.  The thing is, I know what I need to do deep down:  commit.

And commit I shall.  Well, as best I can anyway.  I say this with the best of intentions, of course.