One of my biggest pet peeves* is when people complain about not having enough time. It is easy for this to be one of my annoyances in life at this point because let’s face it: I’m in selfish mode. No kids. No pets. No real worries other than getting myself to work and fed daily.
That said, we are all given 24-hours a day. How we spend them is a matter of priority, and goodness knows our priorities are wildly different. My mom, for example, will spend 6 hours a day quilting and bemoan the fact she doesn’t have “time to read.” I love her nonetheless. My brother groans he doesn’t have “time to cook or budget meals,” but spends a fair amount of his week playing basketball at the gym. And my dad? Well, you already know I think he’s perfect. My point is we spend our time as we have to (work, child care) and often as we want (TV, socializing, gym, sleep). I don’t have a magic recipe for making these two columns balance, but as a single gal with a tiny commute and lots of hobbies — I do my best. If anything, I think I’m often guilty of putting the hobbies before the career.
I’ve been fueling my own pet peeve by kicking myself lately for not making more time to be creative. For the last few weeks, I’ve considerably increased my training at the gym and with my personal trainer. I’ve been spending between 8-10 hours a week at this, which I really enjoy. The downside is that when I do have 30 minutes here and there to work on something at home, I’m physically exhausted. I cannot get myself motivated to come home from lifting weights and sit down at my sewing machine. My bed just looks far too inviting.
Until I get in better shape and am over the initial exhaustion hurdle, my creative time is going to be limited. I’m trying to deal with this change in pace and admitting my current limitations, but doing so does not come naturally.
Thank goodness the garden continues to grow on its own.
*Truly, my biggest pet peeve, as Amanda can attest, is the way people eat popcorn at the movie theater. The crunching, licking, smacking drives me up the wall. So much so, in fact, I’ve been known to get up and leave my date to move to a quieter seat. Popcorn is evil, evil noisy, stinky, food.