A Pensive Post

Is there ever a time when things aren't rushed, when a thousand different tasks, commitments, projects, and such aren't clamoring for our attention?  I mean, yeah, okay -- vacation.  But I'm not sure that counts.  This isn't even a particularly crazed time, but it feels like I've got too many things to do and not enough hours in the day.

Does reaching middle age mean that carefree is a relic of our past?  Or was carefree an illusion born of ignorance?  It seems sometimes that life careens from one crisis to another -- work, health, family, kids, back to work, once more to family.  I find myself longing for "normal," only to realize that I wouldn't know "normal" if it walked up to me and smacked me in the forehead.  Maybe "normal" is an illusion, too.

Not an especially uplifting post, I know.  And I apologize for that.  But I felt that I wanted to post -- I'm trying to post more often this year, and so far am doing a not-so-good-job of it -- and this is what was on my mind.

My mood?  Not sad, but definitely pensive.