There was a point in my life, not too long ago when there just wasn't enough of me to go around. Too little time was what I always said. I was meeting new people left and right and squeezing everything in. I was living every second. Then the novelty of it all wore off and I became lazy or maybe just content with my present situation at that time. Next thing I know, I started feeling down as the weekend approaches. Panic! Scrambling to find something to do and someone to hang out with. I know... pathetic. A few weekends past uneventful.
I realized what was really buggin' me was not the fact that I was all alone on the weekend. It was the thought that my only free time away from work a.k.a "jail" has past me by with nothing to show for it. Monday is here all too quickly and I didn't do anything on Friday or Saturday. As if life itself only happens on weekends because the rest of the time is spent at work and with responsibilities at home. I felt cheated every time it went by quietly. *sigh
You must think I should do something about it, right? I guess that's where I'm stuck. I feel like those moments are so precious that I should spend it wisely doing worthwhile activities with worthy people. I have a few of those..people I mean but the ones I really want to spend it with have gotten busy with their own lives and the ones who are free are just a waste of time and I refuse to waste any more of it.
I should be happy not doing anything then if I can't find the right people to do it with but I get upset when my husband goes out with his friends and I'm stuck at home. I sound like I'm just whining but it's been bothering me for weeks now.
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