I’m finding it a little hard to balance critical pieces of my life right now. Work and working out. Communicating with old friends and blog friends. Taking care of my apartment and taking care of my yearning to spend hours with Mr. Wonderful.
That last one seems to be the trickiest. Last weekend I was with him Friday night, Saturday night, all day Sunday and Sunday night. This meant hours upon hours of getting to gaze into those sleepy brown eyes, kiss him whenever I wanted, eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with him. But it also meant coming home to a house in desperate need of a good vacuuming, bills that had to be paid pronto, a stack of magazines begging me to read them, attention-starved cats, quite a bit of laundry and a shriveled Gerbera daisy in the latter stages of dehydration on my front steps.
It made me want…a helicopter.
I like to think I’m an expert at spinning a dozen plates at once. I try to squeeze in family time between visits with friends, my To Do lists piling up and spilling out of every purse on my coat rack. But something always gets neglected—sleep, exercise, bank statements, the linoleum in my kitchen. And it’s tricky because as much as I really truly want to keep all of those other things in check, I can’t help but succumb to the pull of his allergen-free (yes, he’s allergic to Monty and Zoë) house in the hills. Maybe it’s my escape shoot. Maybe devoting so much time to him is my way of running away from all the chores and other life demands.
He and I always joke around about how we’re going to buy a vineyard in Italy and just move away…and sometimes I think I’d really like to do that! Not that I don’t love my family and friends and job and comforts of living minutes from my hometown. But here, I’m so…accessible. There I could live in a world of continuous new experiences and endless free time. I could get caught up on scrapbooks, jewelry-making, cupboards I want to organize, stories I want to write.
I know, I know. I shouldn’t complain. These are the burdens of a rich, fulfilling life. But sometimes I think it might be nice, just for a little while, to go live in an igloo in the middle of Alaska. With a helicopter, of course.