Whiny Busyness

Hmm, I alluded to being busy, and I am, but it is the wrong kind of busy. It is the kind of busy where I fill up my time doing the things that are expected of me, like work and church and family things. It's the kind of busy that doesn't give me time to stop and think about the fact that I seldom do anything I want to do. I feel a bit bad whining about it, but sometimes I need to feel like an adult, not just a cook slash chauffeur. I need to talk to other grown ups about grown up subjects besides parenting. I want to watch TV on channels that don't have Disney in their name. I want to go out to eat and have a cocktail instead of waiting until my kids go to bed to drink a glass of cheap wine. I want time to actually write, or for that matter, time to work on any of the multitude of projects I started with good intentions and then let fall by the wayside. I want to use my vacation days for an actual vacation instead of for the above-mentioned family things.

Since I feel like single parent much of the time, with a budget to match, I don't have the means to do much of the stuff I would like to do. So I keep myself busy. I stay as busy as possible, right up until I fall asleep. That way I don't have as much time to feel sorry for myself, or blame other people, for the cliche my life has become. The downside is that I don't have dreams any more. And with that very pathetic statement of metaphor, I will get back to the things that are supposed to be keeping me busy.