I'm talking about you -- yes, you. Reading this blog in a snatch of time between making a healthy dinner for your family, preparing for work, polishing off another blog post (one with citations, perhaps -- or a proper book review which required you to finish the book . . . and it's the third book review you've written this week), or revising another chapter of your debut romance novel. And as soon as you've done any or all of those things, you're reading a chapter book aloud to your child(ren), cleaning the house (because NONE of you has dust bunnies, I just know it), painting the spare room . . .
Okay. You're not painting the spare room. I have a friend who painted the spare room this week, and when someone asked her on Facebook where she got all that energy, she admitted, "Chemical imbalance."
To the extent that I know anything about any of you, you all have busier lives than mine. All of you. You've got jobs outside the home, kids, hobbies (by which I mean hobbies you actually do, not hobbies that you merely have all the materials for -- oh, and these are hobbies that, of course, you do effortlessly, always completing each project promptly and happily), elaborate schedules, and so forth.
I am amazed any of you get anything done. I have none of those
So, hats off to you moms/professionals/bloggers/readers/commenters/authors/would-be authors/all-around impressive & accomplished people. I'm trying hard to emulate you all. And I'll get there -- I'll get organized and more efficient with my abundance of free time . . . I just don't know when.