For the last few days I’ve felt like I’m drifting along with the rest of the driftwood. Getting up in the morning, doing the morning routine with the kids, wandering off to work, trudging my way through the work day, returning home to dinner, washing up and tidying up, then rinsing and repeating each day.
While checking my email this morning it struck me that I haven’t received email from anybody in days - and I hadn’t written to anybody either.
I’m sat here wondering if this is “life” as we will know it for the next however many years - a strangely lonely existence - with the loneliness caused by our own manic schedule that leaves very little time for ourselves or our friends.
I’m sat here on my own in the study, listening to country music (which W hates with a vengeance), writing to nobody in particular (this blog post). I seem to be choosing to have no life at the moment.
Now and again we do escape our “life on rails”, as happened on Sunday when we went to the farm with Blogapotamus and her family. Perhaps the mundane days - like today - remind us more strongly of the fun times that are there to be had with friends and family. While caught in the middle of a work week the fun days out seem infinitely preferrable to perching in front of a desk, wrestling with HTML, CSS and the badly written prose of a sales department.
This evening, after cycling home against the wind in baking temperatures, I slid off my bike and turned around immediately to take the children to the local playpark. While lifting the youngest onto the swings I peered over at a nearby bench and thought about sitting and watching the kids like the other dads do - but of course I didn’t… I participated in all their games around the playpark, and by dinner time was running lower on my batteries than I admitted to anybody.
It’s nearly 10pm. The evening has almost gone. Another day starts in a few hours. I may have to go retrieve that can of cider I put in the fridge while tidying up earlier.