My house is empty. It's so quiet. I am all alone.
If I'm dreaming, please don't wake me.
I'm not dreaming. My boss asked me if I could work a later shift today. I told her yes before even considering what it meant.
It meant a morning to myself.
After I agreed, the numbers hit me. The kids would leave for school and I would have two and a half hours all alone. That's 150 minutes with no fighting or food fixing or remote finding. Just me and the dog and whatever I chose to do.
Oh. My. What to do?
I could deep clean the kitchen (that fridge!). I could fold clothes. (hahahahahaha!) There's some crafts I've been wanting to get to and I could paint without little fingers wanting to help.
I. Could. Sleep.
The possibilities were almost endless. But, in the end there's only one thing I wanted that is so much easier without all those distractions I love so much.
I could write.
And, so I am. I'm writing here. (Does this mean a return to regular blogging? I'm not promising anything.) And I'm working on my current book. (Dragons!)
And, I'm thinking. Thinking about all the time I had. The days on weeks on months and years where I stayed home and squandered the empty hours. I'm trying not to beat myself up over it. Learn from it and move on.
And take advantage of every opportunity.