My unrelenting posting of pictures of sunrises and close up shots of flora and fauna, an activity some love and others, well, not so much, has slowed to the slow ambling of the elderly with well-established dementia.
T’would be quite understandable to simply assume it is related to, potentially, how busy I am.
T’is easy to justify this with “Oh, she’s working full time and a mum to three boys”. It’s understandable. It’s relateable. It’s a damned good excuse that covers all manner of getting out of doing all kinds of stuff.
It’s an excuse I entertain from time to time, and although I technically could use it as solid, hard core justification for stuff at the moment, I do believe you are only as busy as you allow yourself to be.
So busy, for me anyway, isn’t really an excuse for anything. Most of the time.
No, it’s not that I’m busy. Not with the usual working-full-time-mother-of-three-boys-volunteering-for-all-sorts-of-stuff-and-being-involved-with-things busy that we’re familiar with on some level or other.
Rather, I’m dealing with a whole heap of stuff that is … exhausting. Partly because it’s all at once, and partly because it’s just the kind of stuff that sucks the energy from your mind, body, and sole and leaves you feeling … well,