I had a plan for today. It was a good one. I was going to Get Things Done (TM)
The day started out badly because I had a rough night, woke up lethargic and under slept, but got going right away. Because I was going to Get Things Done (TM).
We headed up to Canadian Tire so Doug could pick up the truck, with it's winter boots on, I bought a couple of puzzles from the meager stock they had and came back to have breakfast, pour some coffee into me.
And then discovered a voice mail. A mysterious voice mail about an appointment neither of us had booked. But it was from a health care person, so we finally figured out it was possibly intended for me and I phoned back. Busy. Leave a message, we'll call you back when we can.
I still think they called the wrong person, the wrong number, but.
So instead of heading to town to do a string of errands, I'm finishing my coffee wondering if my doctor really does want to, need to, see me, and if so, why?
I'm going to finish my coffee, package up a towel that sold, and then go thread and see if the office calls me back. Because I really hate playing telephone tag, wasting both parties time.
I'm going to practice being flexible. And not be unkind if I find out it's a mistake. But I feel off kilter because I had plans. They were good plans. I'm just going to have to do them in a different order. Because I am still determined to Get Things Done(TM).