25/7?

I always hear people say that there are not enough hours in the day and I never understood it. To me, I just always made time for the things I wanted to do. It sounds selfish. But I would work hard and then take time to do something that I would enjoy. Sometimes that work would last a day and then the fun would last an hour or two and sometimes it was vice versa. It really depended on the work. It also depended on what my body could handle. Sometimes my body could only handle so much work. What would appear to be one difficult day of work to a normal someone, feels like the weight of the world to me. The biggest issue with this is that what may seem like me taking time to go reward myself, pat myself on the back, and just pamper my self for a job well done, is actually time I am spending recovering from the difficult day that I put in. This means sometimes I lose time to do the things that make me happy with out feeling judged. There is no time for happy. Sometimes there is even no time for recovery. This just breeds exhaustion, hostility and illness.
Recently, I have been feeling a huge loss of my time to find and be happy! I have a list of wonderful things just piling up and that list is growing and growing and I just want to tear into it and I can’t. I am counting down the days until summer. I look for every free hour I can find. I feel myself hiding my time like a dog hides it’s bones. I keep returning to make sure they are still there. Sometimes I even use part of them to do a quick something on my list like read a chapter in a book or color a page.
I am learning to take control of the thing that is most important and can help me find my happy, my time. I love my life. I just want more of it.

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