With just three weeks to go till the Thame Fair and the subsequent club workshop, I'm heading into familiar panic territory, paddling frantically down the rapids of squandered time, heading inexorably for the thundering waterfall of unrealised goals.
I should by now be drifting through the placid pools of preparedness, fetching up gently on the shores of satisfaction, and wandering though the sylvan glades of 'job well done'.
Chance would be a fine thing.
On the other hand, despite the domestic chaos caused by the upheaval of re-organising the office, I do seem to have achieved some small progress on preparation for the fair, although of course, not as much as needed.
For example, I managed to soft-clean an entire kiln-load of tiny toys and dolls. OK, so the kiln hasn't been unloaded yet but nevertheless, that is no small feat.
I've started preparation on a really good trade order which has to be completed by the end of February, so I'm well on track for having that completed in time.
The workshop packs for the class I'm teaching on the Sunday following the fair are done and dusted.
I'm well into a batch of tiny rainbow ballerina dolls which proved so successful at Kensington, as well as more than halfway through a set of Jumeau style toy doll kits and dressed toy dolls.
So not too bad considering.
Of course the next three weeks will fly by, and no matter how much I manage to do, I will inevitably feel that it isn't enough.
Looking beyond 21/22 February, I have the prospect of some unfettered quality time to get stuck into my stalled work-related projects, to which I'm really looking forward. With no impending fairs or imminent deadlines, so long as I can keep the displacement goblins at bay, I should be able to crack on with stuff I really want to do, as opposed to the stuff I have to do.
Happy days in prospect then.