Drip, Drip

I was telling a girlfriend today that I've overbooked myself, as usual. I'm scheduled to do something every day, and I'm ignoring the fact that I'm now 67 years old and have way too big a house to take care of in my "free" time. The "drip, drip" of the title is referring to my basement. The big Ah-Ha! moment of my scheduling came when my basement flooded, not once but three times now. It exhausted me to clean all that up. Then I was determined to fix the problem myself (why call in a professional?) so I did fix the drain that was the first problem. Then I almost fixed the drip that caused the third flooding (not nearly as traumatic as the first two, but still managed to make it's way into the sewing room on the far side of the basement.) After ten more bags of rubber mulch and several more sheets of black plastic, I may have fixed the problem---except for that annoying drip...drip...drip. So meanwhile I've scheduled myself onto three tennis teams and have added ballroom dancing lessons and practice. At the lesson I met a woman who wants me to join her at actual dances...which means I need to sew something (actually several somethings) to wear dancing...which means a TNT pattern. I've only got a TNT pattern for pants and tee shirt, which was my life before all this crazy overscheduling.