It's been a funny old week.
I've found myself taking stock of my life, where I want to go, what I've achieved (and not), the decisions I've made to arrive to where I am at. On the whole, most would (should) be pretty content with my lot.
And for the most part I am.
I don't want to be 51.
I don't want to be responsible.
And I am so friggin' tired of cleaning house, feeding the multitude, and of being this solid, dull role model to my kids.
I just want to
and run away.