More and more it feels as though I am stealing time. From work and labour, from the stuff I have to get done.

I should be applying for a grant! I should be getting ahead of that strategy! I should be cleaning Roby’s room! All kinds of stuff I should be doing, but instead I’ll take off to play group for an hour to read books with a bunch of two year olds. Or I’ll drink some tea with Roby before zipping back up to my lair to get the real work done.

Where we’re headed and what we’re up to and what we’re hoping for color what we’re doing in meaningful ways. If I were working a job that I saw as endlessly ongoing, I believe I would feel and behave differently. But I’m not doing that. My reality is one that is hurtling towards a significant change.

I’m hoping for august, and, I mean, my plans coming to fruition or not, change is coming for my ass in August, so that’s something to look forward to.

If I did not have that change inevitably in my future, well, I think I’d have to make it happen. Which is, I suppose, exactly what happened. A universe where I’ve not done what I’ve done is one where I’m about to do it, or if I’m not about to do it, then I’ve likely been driven insane.

So, this is the kindest of all universes.

It is difficult for me to imagine a steady-state, which is hopefully what I’m working towards. If things go well the day care and school will be what I’m up to for the next twenty or so years. Potentially longer, too.

I’ve never done anything for twenty years.

I’m sure it’ll have it’s ups and its downs, but damn.