Maths Maths Maths

It feels as though I have about a million things to do, few of which concern poetry. I’m trying to focus on specific tasks, knocking them off one by one, as the ‘whole thing’ is enough to induce helplessness. This morning, I sent out information to those reading at the Great Grog in October. I’ve proofread some minutes for work. I need to plan a few things in advance or I'll be in big trouble come the weekend. My daughter is on holiday today as the school catering and cleaning staff are on a day-long strike, so my next job is to supervise her maths homework. My wife works in the mornings, but when she gets back they’ll be off to Butterfly World. I then have work to do and a work-related event this evening. I have first proofs to read for Salt and I’ve already spotted a few edits , but I’ll start noting these down when I get back tonight. Time is so important, but it keeps slipping away far too fast. I am a useless multi-tasker. I must now rescue the guinea pigs from the clutches of a six-year-old. I need to eat some porridge. Or would Rice Krispies be a better idea? Maths, maths, maths…