Really? Why can't it? There are so many things I want to be through with, some of which I can't even mention here because you never know who's reading. It would be nice for winter to be over. Having this damn cover story done with would also be nice. Doubt could leave and never come back. Class being over would be ideal. The presidential election, lest we run the risk of having to sit through another debate, could end any time now. Stress? Be gone with ye!
Seriously. All this stuff could be over with and it wouldn't bother me a lick.
"But then what would make life interesting, man?" Shut up, whoever asked that.
Being able to finish reading a book would be awesome. Not feeling guilty about paging through the Onion or Architectural Digest instead of editing stories or painting or ironing or shoveling would be outstanding. Watching the nine movies I own that I've never once seen appeals to me. I bought myself the "Planet Earth" BBC miniseries for Christmas and haven't yet pulled it off the shelf.
Why do I want to do everything I don't have to do but none of what I have to do when I have to do it?
See! Taking the time to blog about not having enough time to blog is turning my brain to jelly! See what I'm up against? I keep telling myself that I'll have time soon, that the busy period is almost over, and it actually worked for a while. Now I'm not so sure. Hey, I know! Why not put my house up for sale and start looking for another one! Maybe throw in some desperate attempts at home improvement while we're at it! Sweet! Now we're talking! What's that? We'll barely break even when we sell the place because the real estate market sucks? Okay! No problem!
No wonder I drink.
(Image above from "Stressed," a 1994 animated film by Karen Kelly)
A dead squirrel
16 hours ago