Okay, there’s plenty I could be doing. The house needs my attention, genealogy, cemetery website, I bought 5 new books this morning, take a walk, but frankly I am bored. Blah. Please tell me it’s just that time of the year. The kids are not entertaining me. They just sit and watched movies all day yesterday. Try to get them up to do something and they say, “Mom we’re tired.” Of what? I wonder. You’re young, how can you be so tired. Hubby really is tired by the time he gets home and doesn’t want to do anything but eat his supper, watch a little TV or read his book and go to bed early. Me, I am antsy. I want to do something. Go somewhere, see someone. I feel pent up, too much energy. The grocery store isn’t appealing travel. The house work doesn’t burn off steam. Laundry doesn’t quench my thirst for adventure.
I felt this way when the kids were little and I was at home with them. No money to travel, on energy because they would wear me down when we left the confines of the house, but now I think the problem is more I don’t know where to begin. I have the time and the means, but don’t know where to start. What to do. You hear of women my age trying to find themselves and I think it begins with this feeling. This bored feeling. The things that once interested me, no longer interest. I hope that it’s just cabin fever. That with the spring will come anew feeling of purpose. Because right now I feel like a caged animal looking for a place to pounce. Why can’t I turn that energy into something productive like a clean living room, or a decluttered closet? Come on buttercups. Show your beautiful heads. Come on warm breezes and wash away my malaise. I think I have had enough of winter. No more staycations for us. It makes the winters too long.