Timing is everything. I don't have to tell you that; chances are pretty good you already know it. Guilt is a terrible thing. Now what does timing have to do with guilt? Simple. If you don't have enough time to do everything, you feel guilty you missed something. As I was sitting here doing my homework tonight, my little man was demanding attention. Demanding is definately the right word. I desperately needed to get the work done, and yet, I desperately wanted to give him the attention he was demanding. Herein lies the guilt. My time is precious. I'm sure so is everyone elses. I have so little of it. He missed basketball practice because I have to do my homework and his father, who swore to me when we started the basketball experience that he would take care of it. I told him Thursday was not a good day for me. He told me not to worry about it. He seems to think that just because I rarely work a Thursday night that I can just drop everything and run. I can't. Just because I'm not working doesn't mean I don't have to work.
Oh, I have those days where I so very much envy those who do nothing! I have a few friends and acquaintances, who I would never change for the world, that do nothing. They don't work, they don't go to school, they don't have children, or they do but don't live with them, they have complete and total freedom to do whatever they want. Yet, they are not happy. Why? Because apparently people need to have something to do! I work my ass off. Can I say ass on the Internet? Oh, well, I just did. I work my ass off, working my full-time job, going to school online, volunteering in Home and School (known in other areas as the PTA) and in Cub Scouts. Yes, I'm busy. Yes, I'm stressed. Would I give it up? Not for the world! I'm more determined now than I was at a younger age. I will have my degree. I will keep my job. I will be a good mom.
I have recently been invited to be a member of the Golden Key International Honor Society. I had always hoped, at my previous graduations, to be one of those illustrious students with the gold scarfs hanging around their necks. It is a mark of distinction. I will have it this time around. I will be distinguished. I am among the top 40 of a graduating class of more than 2000. That is nothing to sneeze at! Oh, but will I have time?!
I will make time.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Why White Lines?
One upon a time, I had an idea for a story. It was about all the events in my life that had somehow coincided with lines, whether I was following them down some highway, standing in them, fighting with them in the television set, or simply crossing them, literally and figuratively. I have never done cocaine. You can check my medical record.
The title was primarily inspired by my passionate love for the white lines of the road. I love to travel. There's no more beautiful sight to me than the infinate short white lines of the interstate. I could never count them, but I have always wished that one day, I will pass them all.
Standing in lines requires patience. Sometimes I have it. Sometimes I don't. The best that I can hope for is that they move quickly and don't take up too much of my time. Time is of the essence. Time is precious. There never seems to be enough of it.
I have given up on television. At this particular time, I can't really afford it, but more importantly, I am not really interested in it. There are a thousand other ways to get the information and entertainment I need without the constant interruption of commercials. Granted, I'm probably missing out on all the "new stuff" out there on the TV waves, but I never really was interested in new stuff. I'm a nostalgic person.
My favorite feeling in the world is when I cross a border while travelling. "Welcome to Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida..." I like to go south!
At times, I have crossed figurative lines I probably should not have crossed. There are things I have done in my life that I am not exactly proud of: lines that should have been road blocks. Looking back, I can honestly say I regret very little. Perhaps there are things I might have done differently, but I cannot say I wouldn't have done them at all. I am where I am because of the lines I've crossed. Some might call me brave, some might say I should be ashamed of myself. All I can say is that I'm human. Deal with it.
So White Lines will be my personal repetiore: the glimpse into my thoughts and feelings that I wouldn't bother to share in person. I will not promise constant random rants and raves. I'm not an entertainer. I will promise honesty. Sometimes it's the best policy, sometimes it's a bitch. So, if you know me personally, I request you don't ask me about anything I post here. If I choose to discuss it with you, by all means ask your questions. If not, let it drop.
P.S. Please don't bitch about the ads on my pages. They are there for a reason. Leave it at that.
The title was primarily inspired by my passionate love for the white lines of the road. I love to travel. There's no more beautiful sight to me than the infinate short white lines of the interstate. I could never count them, but I have always wished that one day, I will pass them all.
Standing in lines requires patience. Sometimes I have it. Sometimes I don't. The best that I can hope for is that they move quickly and don't take up too much of my time. Time is of the essence. Time is precious. There never seems to be enough of it.
I have given up on television. At this particular time, I can't really afford it, but more importantly, I am not really interested in it. There are a thousand other ways to get the information and entertainment I need without the constant interruption of commercials. Granted, I'm probably missing out on all the "new stuff" out there on the TV waves, but I never really was interested in new stuff. I'm a nostalgic person.
My favorite feeling in the world is when I cross a border while travelling. "Welcome to Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida..." I like to go south!
At times, I have crossed figurative lines I probably should not have crossed. There are things I have done in my life that I am not exactly proud of: lines that should have been road blocks. Looking back, I can honestly say I regret very little. Perhaps there are things I might have done differently, but I cannot say I wouldn't have done them at all. I am where I am because of the lines I've crossed. Some might call me brave, some might say I should be ashamed of myself. All I can say is that I'm human. Deal with it.
So White Lines will be my personal repetiore: the glimpse into my thoughts and feelings that I wouldn't bother to share in person. I will not promise constant random rants and raves. I'm not an entertainer. I will promise honesty. Sometimes it's the best policy, sometimes it's a bitch. So, if you know me personally, I request you don't ask me about anything I post here. If I choose to discuss it with you, by all means ask your questions. If not, let it drop.
P.S. Please don't bitch about the ads on my pages. They are there for a reason. Leave it at that.
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