My time is not my own anymore it seems. I have my fingers in a few too many pies these days and find myself running around a lot. And being expected to be a lot of places. And see a lot of people.
Fortunately I like being busy. In fact, I celebrate it. It reminds me, always, that I am alive, that I'm healthy, and I'm grateful for that. I often think, as I lie in bed wanting just a few more minutes of sleep, that there are people who would give anything - anything - to be able to get out of bed and be productive. I am blessed.
These days as the temperature drops down and the down comforter feels so good, I am sure there will be more days where I'd gladly stay undercover a little bit longer. And I welcome them. Because they serve as constant reminders that I'm here.