Spares and strikes the balance

I'm feeling a trifle blue today. It may be due to the rum-and-diet-cherry-coke that I mixed for myself circa 1:30p this afternoon. (Ok, so my hubby mixed it for me.) It might be the overwhelming mach speed that seems to suddenly occupy my workday. It might even be the few days before Aunt Flo arrives for her monthly visit. In any case, I’m finding myself slightly down in the dumps.

And so, I’ll carve out some time to write. See, I think that’s the issue. Time. I want all it all. Time with my kids. Time with my husband. Time to kick ass at work. Time with my siblings. Time with my friends. Time to wax my eyebrows, get a massage, work out. Time to call my mom. Time to make (and eat) good food. Time to feel rested. Time to write. Time to read. Time to pray. Time to think. Time to dwell in a clean house. I want time.

I don’t want more time. I just want all of my time.

Sam and Ken need Halloween costumes. Where can we find blue hair dye? Sam’s birthday is Monday. Do we have any cake mix? My anniversary is Tuesday. What’s a good gift? Bills are due Friday. Do we have enough? I’m a week behind for the newsletter that’s not on deadline, but that I’ve promised my boss. The stores we’re responsible for opening are still going to open at the end of July: ready or not. My blog. My blog. My blog. I’d like to write once per week; I’m lucky if I write once per moth. I haven’t seen the pages of a favorite book in months; I haven’t worked out for longer than 30 minutes in I don’t know how long.

This feeling short on time has a direct correlation to my self-expectations. Some might say that my expectations are too high. I expect – may even demand – a certain level of performance in all elements of my life, and so, when enough time is not dedicated to that element, I feel frustrated. Inadequate. Disappointed in myself. Have you ever experienced this?

The good news is, I’m not stressed out. My husband is my teammate, and we divide and conquer the to-do lists together. I get to see my boys every night. My Saturdays are typically my own. This fall has been arguably the best Minnesota fall in years; we play outside in jeans and sweatshirts. My blog hasn’t gone anywhere: still open for entries, and since the invention of the Kindle, I can read a few pages via my cell phone.

Still, this feeling of inadequacy and self-frustration has overstayed its welcome.

I need some ideas for repair. I’ve considered winning the lottery, retiring early, giving up sleep, or all of the above. I've become an out-of-shape, pray-when-I-stay-awake-long-enough, to-do-list driven, gotta-wear-my-next-hat-now person, and it’s time for something to change.

What ideas, tips, experiences can you share that can help me strike the balance that I’m looking for?

Love, Molly