Time is an illusion...

I'm afraid that life is simply too time-consuming. Lately, it's gotten to feel as though busy-ness is about the only real quality I can truly call my own.

I haven't had a free weekend in who knows when, and in the five-six hours between the time I get home from work and the time I go to bed, there's always SOMETHING of a high priority nature that demands my attention for an altogether too lengthy period of time. Everything blurs together in such a way that when you look back, the only clear recollection you have is of being "on the way" to the next thing for which you are already a few minutes late.

All in all, it's just plain tiring.

About every two weeks or so (sometimes less frequently, depending on when I pause briefly for a breath) I wind up asking myself what has to be the world's most popular question: "Why?"

With everything in the world to spend time on (heh, even idiots have no excuse!), how does one keep from going absolutely crazy? Or at least have time to pause for something like a nap? sun-set?


Honestly though, I think our time is spent where our priorities lie.

For what other reason would you want to be exhuasted? Knowing that your time is spent doing what you have decided is something you enjoy doing or need to do, what could be more satisfactory?

And with that, I'll conclude this rather time-consuming post and look for something else to consume my time.