Everything in my life has slots. I feel as if my life were one big in- mail slot with everything catagorized. You know the kind, the ones you set on your desk to shove papers in that you are supposed to get around to filing later only six months go by and you haven't even looked at it? That kind. I have the northwest woman magazine slot. I have the fiction slot. I have the freelance slot. I have the mommy slot. I have the figure skating club slot. I have the wife slot. I have the home slot. Sometimes my slots collide. Too much going on at one time. Not sure which slot to put stuff in or if it is even worth slotting. This morning I had the mommy slot, the freelance slot, the NW Woman slot and the wife slot all clamoring for attention. What about the I need a shower slot?
Maybe I should tell them all to slot off?