I’ve spent most of the morning updating banking information for Sound Exchange, which is a company that distributes royalties to musicians like me. Turns out all the work I did this morning was already done, by me, within the last year. Meanwhile, there’s a guy in my bathroom tearing up the tile he installed eight months ago. The grout failed, so he’s doing it over again. I can hear him grumbling and swearing as though it was someone else’s fault even though it’s just one of those things. He had insurance. He’s getting paid, but he’s grumbling anyway. Neither of us is having a great day, but I’m in a better mood than him.

My problem is I have too many things I want to do. I want there to be more time in the day. I don’t want to have to prioritize and not get to do everything.

For instance: I finished another lyric (second-to-last, hallelujah!) and I really want to record the vocals today. Alas, the tile guy is making too much noise. And because the CD is almost done (hallelujah#2) I have a lot of business to take care of: songs to register at various licensing agencies, songs to post on itunes, Pandora, and similar outlets; money to raise, letters to write, headshots to take, artwork to complete for the CD cover, video to shoot, new website host to advise on how to update my site, learn how to let him do his job and not do it for him, finish one last tune, do my taxes, file 1099s, you get the picture. I know every single one of you has a similar list so I don’t feel alone, but I still want more time to play the piano, write more songs, write a book or two, make stuff, cook, eat, have friends over, and walk the dogs.

As I get older, I find what I want to do more than anything is slow down. I still tend to function at high speed, but gradually life in rural Colorado is teaching me how to let things go. I make lists. I check things off. Somehow, the things that are most important get done.