After work today, I stopped off at the Divison stop and walked to the grocery store. Grabbed a few things for dinner (mushrooms, rice, catfish) and had a nice walk to end the day.
By the time I settle in at home, TV/Internet/etc… I realize it’s damn near 8:30 PM. I start to make dinner and it’s now close to 9:40PM. I’ll eat and watch a little TV and then try to make it an early night.
I don’t get how most people spend their days. Work eats up most of the time, and then getting home and making dinner… it feels like I look up and the day has already ended. What did I do with the time today? How did I improve my life? How did I better myself or better the world in the past 24 hours?
Right now, my workdays don’t seem to have much meaning. Sure I get my work done, but after that… I’m not sure what’s there. Drinking is fun and all, but is that the defining factor to what makes a day worthwhile or memorable? Hitting a bar with friends? The blog… meh. It’s more routine anymore. And while it’s nice that I’m building a little at a time, day by day, I still don’t end my days with any serious sense of accomplishment. Of contribution.
Perhaps this is the writing bug, manifesting itself. Perhaps this is the desire for a relationship manifesting itself. Perhaps this is a subtle signal from my brain that I need to go out more, or read more, or talk to people more.
I don’t know how people with families do it. After a full day of work, there seem to be additional people vying for your time. Spouses. Children. After spending time with family/loved ones, what’s left for the self? The days, and by this I mean the viable working hours in any given day available to further oneself, seem so limited.
I guess I’m approaching this from the wrong perspective. For people who are married, for people who have kids… this concern for the self is less an issue, it seems. The very idea of marriage, of children, implies that there are other things more important than the self.
