It’s only 8:30 a.m. on a Monday, as I write, yet already I have that overwhelmed feeling.

It started with the bad dream that lingered just before my feet hit the floor. Seconds later, I couldn’t remember what the dream was about, but it made my head ache.

Three of the four cats that live with me were sitting impatiently in the hall, right outside the door, positioned so I couldn’t ignore them (even without my glasses). The fourth, the only male, was at the front door, scratching as if he was pursued by a dragon. It was clear, as only felines can be, what they all wanted. More food, clean water and in the male’s case, the great outdoors and a morning adventure.

It’s easy to take care of these kinds of immediate needs. And I almost felt relaxed enough to enjoy a cup of coffee until I realized I forgot to plug the darned thing in before I went to bed.

Then I realized I hadn’t written this column yet and that it was a Monday, the day when all the loose ends of the weekend get done. Or at least started. Two Windham schoolchildren want information about particular parts of the history of the town; a woman from Florida, another from Connecticut, and four from various parts of Maine are waiting for genealogical information. The snow has melted a little and I see some mud so perhaps I can get to the Historical Society building today (reminder: take a shovel) and dig out the data these folks need. After I dig the snow off the steps.

The hours are ticking by. I hardly care about the early Daylight Savings Time change, since I know it will take at least six months before I figure out how to change the clock in the car.

The phone rings. Someone who graduated from Windham High School wants to know when Alumni Banquet is. My mind adds one more thing to think (and worry) about – when is Mother’s Day? Alumni Banquet is the Saturday after Mother’s Day. I double check with the Alumni Association president. I’d better get this set in my mind because lots of people will be asking about this.

At 10 a.m. an alert to an incoming e-mail appears. It’s from the Maine Old Cemetery Association asking about the deadline for their quarterly newsletter (which I volunteered to write a few years back). I’ll have to check my files.

By now it’s not quite 10:30 a.m., I’ve finished half a pot of coffee and a dish of oatmeal and frankly, I’m ready for a nap! But wait – is that a scratching I hear at the door? The teenage boy cat has decided to come in for a morning snack and no doubt a little rest. The three females (his mom and two sisters from different litters) are already curled up in a sunny patch on the back of the couch.

If there was just a little more room in that sunny spot, I’d be tempted to see if I could sneak in a little snooze. But time is wasting. This good weather might not last. The old farmers said make hay while the sun shines – and so I will. And tonight I can go to the Planning Board and record the minutes. Even my Tuesday is pre-ordained: The minutes will need to be transcribed tomorrow.

That bad dream of four hours ago seems a long ways gone. I don’t feel overwhelmed anymore because this has turned out to be a routine day after all. The nap will come in the afternoon.

See you next week.