Unfinished Business

I'm not sure what's wrong with me. I seem to have a major problem with completing tasks, the evidence of which is all around me. I'm wearing a decent shirt that I could go out-and-about in, but also wearing my husband's polar bear pajama pants. Unmatched socks have been strewn about the living room by my two-year-old, evidence that I only folded and put away some of the laundry. Dinner is often prepped, but not completed. I might put on my workout clothes, but I don't always work out. I put the clothes in the washer, but not the dryer. I commit myself to reading my bible every day, and three days later, it stops. Sometimes, halfway through the day, I realize that I have only shaved one leg or put mascara on one eye.
Then there is the My Documents folder, containing thirty-five unfinished works of fiction. I know because I just counted them. All written within the last five years.

I'm really disturbed by this problem. How much simpler my life would be if I would complete my tasks! I would not always feel like I am catching up or falling behind! *sigh* I have nothing more to say.