But I don’t. So I’m not.

If I had an hour a day all to myself, in a clean & quiet space, I could be a prolific writer. (I might not be a GOOD writer. But at least I’d be producing something.)

If I had a gym membership again, and a friend up here to go with me like I did in Florida, I could get in shape and be a fit 27-year-old.

If I had a little more patience and a little less on my daily to-do list, I could probably be an awesome mother. (Not that I’m currently a horrible mother, I just see room for improvement, dig?)

If I had a better work ethic and fewer distractions (read: no internet access), I could be the world’s most diligent housekeeper.

If I had more room in the budget and made a few trips to the fancy grocery stores, I could be a sweet chef who turns out some amazing, mouthwatering meals that might even convince my husband that healthy food doesn’t suck.




4 Responses to But I don’t. So I’m not.

  1. Mrs. Chicken says:

    I totally know this feeling, friend. Someday. Someday we will find the time!

  2. Waiting Amy says:

    Yes, if only a little more time, or a little more money to help buy a little more time! Or more time to make more money. OR SOMETHING!

    Just a little longer and it will all turn around. Just a little longer right? Please say it will just be a little longer?

  3. fizzledink says:

    {Sigh} Amy, every time I say that it seems to get even longer…. last night Gruff came home from a dinner meeting with some big fancy well-known surgical oncologist & talked wistfully of the amazing fellowship program the guy runs. {sigh} Seriously? Surg onc? HOW many years does that add to this process? And, oh, yeah, lovely, it’s in HOUSTON. {Sigh}

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