Honestly, I thought I only wrote a blog post last week and now I realise six weeks have gone by. Time is speeding past me quicker than ever, and I have to (regretfully) admit my mother was right (oh, how that phrase hurts) and time really does go quicker as you get older.
But why? I remember long summer holidays where I could be bored for hours. Days, even. Now I'm on the go from sun up to sun down (and that's pretty much sixteen hours a day at the moment). I race from doing one housework task, to a kid task, to a wife task, to a daughter task, and when I do sit down and put my feet up with a glass of wine, I seem to fall asleep in an instant and spill the fucker all over me. Then I get to smell like a lush without the luxury of drinking the damn stuff and getting pissed.
I've had a bit of a rough time of it recently, that good ol' companion of mine, Mistress Depression, returned and hung around like a bad smell. It makes the day-to-day tasks turn into a grind, and one performed whilst trying to breathe smoke and swim through treacle. Everything gets so overwhelming, but this time at least I could see what was coming and took a few steps to help (got off Facebook for a while, dropped some of the responsibilities outside of the family, knocked myself out for a night with a valium) and it's beginning to lift. What I need to do is NOT pick up all the dropped responsibilities again the minute I feel a bit better, but to leave well alone for a while. Let's see how well I do with that one folks.
Anyway, Midsummer blessings to you all. May you be fruitful in all you do, may your bounty be plentiful, and may there not be too much washing up.