An old friend recently told me, she'd often wondered what my life was like. Such a simple question, but so difficult for me to answer.
We live in completely different worlds, her and I. She is single, lives in her own apartment and drives her own car. She is a respected university lecturer with a PhD and is not afraid to speak her mind.
Me? I've been married for 18 years, live in a completely chaotic house that I can't call my own with three screaming kids. I've never owned a car even though I can drive. I managed to graduate with a Bachelors degree by the skin of my teeth and am almost always keeping my thoughts to myself.
After a brief think, I answered 'routine'. I think it sums it all up well, that one word. I realised then I could no longer live spontaneously like she still does. She could just pack a bag and catch a flight to somewhere whenever she felt bored or wanted a short break. I used to be able to do the same, but how could I possibly do it now? With three children in tow, two of whom are in school, everything has to be planned. Time away from home is the one I dread the most, because of its uncertainty. Anything could happen, and they usually do. Quite often I'd think I got everything planned out and I'm prepared, but somehow something always manages to crop up that could ruin everything.
Routine. That's all it is. Wake up, get the kids ready for school. Do chores, then get lunch for the little one. Then it's more chores, or errands, before rushing to get tea ready. Kids get home from school, eat and change. Tidy up then off to bed, chance to catch up with family and friends online before falling asleep with one hand still on the mouse. The next day it's the same thing all over again. Groundhog Day? You betcha. Do I get a break? Never. Do I wish I could live someone else's life for just one day? Sometimes. Do I want to trade it all for something different? Honestly? I don't know.
