Too Much To Do, Too Little Time

Here I am feeling like the White Rabbit from Alice In Wonderland again! I've felt that way before as well but this time it is different. This time I'm not panicking like that poor rabbit dude (seriously, he needed to chill the heck out!) but I'm still feeling like I'm hanging from the hands of a ticking clock. I'm hanging from its hands not trying to catch up like he was, but I'm hanging to slow it down. If I could somehow hang on it so it doesn't tick tick tick its way into another hour. If I could instead have that hour for myself because I have too much to do, too little time!

Pressure like a grip, grip, grip, and it won't let go. Woah.

Pressure like a tick, tick, tick, till it's ready to blow. Woah oh ohhh.

Wow. Disney is so relatable.

I know I haven't had time for myself since forever and I often write about it too, there's nothing new there. Trust me though, it's gotten worse. Now it's like no breaks at all. I'm suddenly expected to be at everyone's service twenty four seven ... literally. Before if it used to be one kind of task or chore in a day, now it's countless tasks with not even a peaceful bathroom break in the middle. I'm expected to attend to work stuff, cook, clean, laundry, workout, shower, and repeat some of these things all in one day at the same time. There's no longer the concept of resting or even taking a few minutes to breathe. I'm not even sure how it got to this point, when it did, or if it'll even ever get better. I'm pretty sure there are still the same number of hours in a day and still a single me so I guess what has changed is the shameless ruthless audacity of the people around me who get the privilege of ordering me around.

But you know what else has changed? I've lately been feeling a strange determined obstinance towards making my own things happen. It's like I'm trying to juice out every second of every minute of every hour of every day. I'm squeezing as hard as I can so every little second juices out of that minute. If there's even a tiny moment in the midst of the chaos that I can take for myself, I'm grabbing it by the horns, hands, legs, derriere, you name it. Whether this rare moment is past midnight as I wait for my turn in the washroom after Abbie or mid day between the work and chores and what nots ... I'll take it. I'll stick one little thumbtack on the pretty pinboard in my room if I get one little second at 1 am. I'll do a round of weight lifting exercises with my dumb bells if there's even five minutes before we have to head out to a doctor's appointment. I'll get those steps in that I need to lose weight even if it is before and after cooking the day's food no matter how tired I am. I'll move things in my Harry Potter shelves an inch to the right and an inch to the left even if I have a single minute free. I'm just not stopping. I don't want to, I don't find myself able to. I don't know if I'm wearing myself out. It does feel like I am. But truth be told, this seems like the only way.

I guess it is both fortunate and unfortunate to be a person with too many hobbies. Think about it, if I had no hobbies I wouldn't be finding a shortage of time to do my things. But then if I had no hobbies I would have probably gone crazy and gotten crushed under all the pressure. I guess it's pick your poison. I'd gladly take my hobbies. At least they make me happy!

Okay. End rant.