The last few weeks have felt pretty stressful. Things that *had* to be done, people I *needed* to see, finding the time to cook a decent meal, finding the time to go for a run, sorting out this site, doodling superheroes, playing with Milly and Molly, reading my book.
At some point the things I love doing turned into chores.
Perhaps chores is a bad word; it’s not that I didn’t want to do these things, it was that I wanted to do all of these things and felt I had to allocate and schedule and plan an designate and that detracts from the essence of fun! Why the hell am I getting so worried about time? I’m spending so much time worrying about not doing everything that I’m still not doing everything but the things I am doing I’m not even enjoying!
Luckily during one of my designated leisure periods I had put on some George Carlin for a bit of background entertainment and this particular bit made me stop, smile, and realise that I should worry a hell of a lot less about time: