I sit here, tired. I know what must be done regardless of my own state, but that makes it no easier. I've five baskets of laundry to haul three flights of stairs down and back up. I've lost both of my laundry machines in the apartment fire, so I've an irritating journey to make. My vehicle still has malfunctioning parts, making travel to and fro stressful and difficult.
Is this laziness? Unhappiness with change? Acknowledgment that convenience often comes equal with saved time? Does the layman know how much time they waste in their day to day? Am I strange for my attention to such things? Am I wasting away giving thought to such things as how much time I'm spending toward tasks that are menial and unrewarding? Silly to think how that time will never return to me?
Is the time I spend on things I do enjoy, time spent well?
I've received a delivery from a good friend, a delivery that comes with longing, fear and excitement. I feel an amalgamation of things that's difficult to put to words. I will start a difficult journey soon, one made more difficult by my surroundings. A difficulty I know to be unnecessary.
I've not much choice but to get up, scurry along and do the chores laid out before me. But my mind is elsewhere. On the fear, on the excitement, the longing. The knowing I'll tie myself to something life long and arduous, but wholly necessary. The relief that will come with. The new difficulties I've not thought out. The ones I've spent so much time pondering.
I will persist.