Feeling Guilty For Resting

Life anymore moves far too fast. When I was younger, I know for a fact that a summer evening could last a whole month. Now a month seems no longer than an evening. In the "real world" as we seem to like to call it, there's everything to do and no time to do it. There are great movies I'll never find the time to see, books I'll never sit down to read, a whole life I'll never find a moment to live.

I have a full-time job. Friends to attend to. Things to write. Family to care for.

And lately it feels like any time I'm not doing one of these things, then I'm just wasting my whole life. It's all become a little too crushing, and in some weird irony, it makes me want to do absolutely none of the things I feel like I have to do.

That's especially making this blog post difficult to write.

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate anything on that list. It's all important to me. I just find myself approaching so much of it with a "let's get this over with" type of attitude.

That's not how I thought life would be when I was that little kid with too much summer in one night.