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The sky looks flat today, a pale color between white and gray without a cloud to be seen through the window. It’s not gray like rain is coming, though it has rained intermittently throughout the day, casting dampness over our Sunday. The sky is simply devoid of flashes of sunshine that always make me feel happier and more productive.

My girl told me she watched a video about productivity to try to motivate herself a little, and all it did was motivate her to be productive tomorrow. I know that feeling on Sundays, especially gloomy Sundays like this one, where everything feels like it would be better suited to be done tomorrow. We played a goofy game for distraction, but ended up laughing more than playing, and we abandoned it as quickly as I abandoned most of my task list for the day.

The things I’ve done so far today are small. A little laundry, but not all of it. A little organizing, but definitely not much. A grocery order I’ll pick up later.

I need to pack for a couple nights away with friends, but I’m dragging my feet, though I put together a packing list for Dylan. We’re excited to go, but I’m slightly sad to be splitting our family, only a few weeks after getting Abbey back with us after her summer dance program. I sleep better when we’re all together under one roof, whether it’s ours or someone else’s, so I know I’ll toss and turn while gone. Truthfully, I haven’t been sleeping well lately, so I guess it won’t feel all that different.

Gloomy.

Maybe it’s not just the weather. Maybe it’s in my head more than I’d like to admit. I’ll look for some sunshine, but I’m not sure I’m going to get to that until tomorrow.

I keep reading about how block scheduling can help you feel more in control of your day, and I’m attempting it. I try to build margins of time into my day, because I get frustrated when I feel busy and don’t feel like I tackled nearly enough on my to-do list. I make sure I’m not shoving things against each other, keeping space between the blocks.

It’s not helping.

I still wonder where time went. I find myself driving kids places I didn’t expect or spending more time that I expected doing laundry or making dinner or any number of things I know are a waste of time — talking to the cat, scrolling the internet, changing passwords I can’t remember and have to retrieve through a complicated process of two-factor authentication and hope.

Most days I discover I’m missing one of the five habits I’m truly trying to instill this month. These aren’t complicated habits — water drinking, certain workouts, meditation, cleaning tasks, journalling in one form or another. Yet I can’t seem to fit in all five on any given day, which doesn’t make sense because really it’s only a few hours out of the day, max, and I don’t work in the summer. I mean, I work, but I don’t go to my job, so I feel like those few hours should be easy to block into my day. I could understand when the kids were young, and they demanded a lot of my time. Mostly, these days, they entertain themselves (except for my Uber duties). They’ll chat with me if I seek them out, but they’re also happy playing video games, moving furniture around in their rooms, working out, or hanging out with friends.

So far, all three days this month, I’ve basically written about how my life has kind of devolved into missed opportunities and mismanaged time. Maybe by seeing it in writing, I’ll be able to make some small changes to build on each other before the beginning of the school year arises. After all, my days don’t get less messy when the kids are in school.

(Just in case we’re keeping track, which I totally am…Out of five tasks today, I only did three. Out of five habits, I only did three. I might still meditate. We’ll see.)

When I set a goal to blog daily in August, I honestly didn’t think I’d struggle to fit in a post on my second day. I’m not even sure why that was my goal; I guess it’s an avoidance tactic in a way. I haven’t written regularly for so long, except for journal entries, that I’m not sure I remember how to craft an essay or plot a long short story or even set a scene in a small vignette.

I told Ryan recently I’m worried I don’t know how to write anymore. I feel stuck in many ways, unsure how to write about the past year with my mom without sharing parts of the story that aren’t mine to share. With that lingering in my mind, it’s hard to imagine writing fiction either. I don’t know that I remember how to slide into someone else’s story, particularly when I’m still wobbly and uncertain in my own.

I’d like to think blogging might shake off some of the rust, unearth some of the rhythms I used to fall into so easily when I sat at the keyboard. (That sounds like writing always came easily. It definitely did not, but I could always find it again. Now it feels out of reach.) Maybe I should have been more definitive with the goal, a word goal for each day or fiction Fridays or something specific on other days of the week. Today, I was glad I didn’t do that. I might have skipped it entirely, bagged out on day two and been angry when I woke up on day three with an already-broken streak.

Next week, Dylan and I will be out of town for a few days. I don’t know what I’ll do then. Pre-write a post or two? Blog from my phone, a practice with which I’ve never had all that much luck? I haven’t decided, but I’m doing my best to take one day at a time. Even if these short little sessions are a way to avoid drafting “real” work, they’re more than I’ve been writing in the past year, really, and that has to count for something.