I’m so aware of time. I’m also aware it never feels like I have enough of it.
I know I’m not the only one that feels this way, yet lately, I’m also very aware that I am the cause of it. Busyness is a choice, I’d like to think, but what if you are constantly worried that you won’t have enough? Like, if you slack for one month or one week or one day, that you will fall behind?
January 2025 was the busiest month that I’ve encountered in a long time. My instinct is to give you a long list of everything I accomplished this month, but today it feels tedious and braggadocious, when is the opposite of how I feel. I feel tired and overworked and resentful of myself for putting myself in a position that made me sick yet again. Busyness is not a badge of honor by any means, but sometimes you’ve got to push through with very specific goals in mind.
Last night me and my son crawled up onto my bed and just watched TV leisurely. I kept looking over at him smiling and snuggling and it felt like I was in an alternate reality. Many times I felt my eyes watering up because of how great it felt to not be in a hurry. When he asked to watch another episode, I happily said YES. I wasn’t checking my phone for the time and I wasn’t worried we’d be late for something. We could just relax with no plans and it was the first time this has happened in longer than I can remember.
It was so simple.
I felt rich.