Today I was bored.
Today was the first time in recent history (as in, since the time before I had at least one moving child to occupy my energy) that I have had this feeling.
To be fair, I did have some rather action-packed, fun moments today. We played outside, we went to a party (one of those wild and crazy parties that married couples who have to bring their children along have - the kind with arguments over toy phones, races on miniature cars and blocks soaring through the air - and the parents get to actually indulge in adult conversation, too), I got to run errands (alone!) - but when I arrived home and my eldest was napping and the younger followed suit soon after, I found I had nothing to do. To be sure, I'm certain there were dishes that could have been placed in the dishwasher or something similar, but other than that - nothing.
And it was weird.
I couldn't even fathom how to fill the time. I racked my brain - surely there was something on my seemingly-endless list of things that need to get done that could be done in that moment. And I was at a loss.
Bored.
Really?
Maybe I've been wrong lately as I've justified to myself that I don't need more things to do just to occupy my time. Maybe I should take up knitting . . .
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