Welcome to my little corner of the world, where I try to answer the age old question of what I want to be when I grow up. Though of course I’ve already been grown up for a while.
My problem is that I have too many interests and too little ambition. Too much time, and too little.
How does that work exactly?
I work part time, and I have no children (by choice), and I also have quite a limited amount social engagements (again – as an introvert – by choice), which should give me enough time to say – work on my writing, work on my drawing, cooking, baking, photography, singing, what have you – basically figure my shit out. But it’s not enough time. I’m always running out. Suddenly it’s time for bed, suddenly the weekend is over, suddenly it’s a new year and what the hell happened to the old one?
I have too much time in the way that there’s no real urgency. I don’t have to force myself to write in the one hour I have at night after I’ve finished working and the kids have gone to bed. I can always do it later, tomorrow, next week. There’ll be plenty of time, there is plenty of time.
So, I have too much time and too little.
And so, nothing gets done.
But the road stretches out empty before me, the landscape wide and inviting, the sky blue, the air smells of heather and the wind carries the scent of the sea. It’s time to get going.