I was just about to get on here and grumble artistically about how I wish I had more time in a day.
And then I read my last post.
Ah, ambivalence is a most charming character trait. /sarcasm.
It's hard not to complain when I don't have enough time to do things that matter. When I can't write. When I can't blog. When I can't even slap a poem onto a piece of paper in the midst of my day. When I can't sit down and have a meaningful conversation with my mother without interruption. When I can't look through pictures with my little brother without him reminding me we both have gobs of homework to do.
But I guess that's when I just have to suck it up, huh?
I'm going to be spending my weekend on homework again.
It would be nice not to feel like I'm burning out.
But sometimes I think it's my own fault?
It probably is.
Diligence isn't something that comes easily to me (maybe I'm the only one). You can tell because I had a thought and had to sit down and write for five minutes on it instead of starting my Government homework.
I can be such a malcontent. Like I'm wasting my time, my life, my talent, my opportunities.
I need to realize I'm just not perfect and give it up already. I cannot get through a day without wasting something. But can anyone?