Last week, Frida started preschool -- five morning a week preschool. I've been anticipating this for three years now. Ever since she dropped from three naps a day to two naps. Then down to one nap. And now there are no naps, just her falling asleep in the car for about 15 minutes while we're on the way to whatever I have planned for the afternoon.
It's become a lot of work planning our free time. Much more than I remember it being back when I was single and the weekend stretched ahead of me with its 48 hours of magnificent potential. Now, I never have 48 hours of "nothing planned." In fact, I've just about run out of free weekends until around late-October. Just in case you were wanting to get together with me at some point this year.
But weekdays for me as a self-employed writer/proofreader still have that air of potential about them. Some days I have the luxury of asking myself "Do I work on this project or that one?" Of course, there are also weeks like this one where a newsletter is due and I pretty much know what I'll be working on until the project is complete. I have a routine, but there's flexibility in the routine and not as much stress when it's one of my own projects trumping priority over another of my projects.
But the increased amount of time I will now have to myself also scares me a little bit. I can't just say "Well, if I had more time I could do more writing." I admit I have used that as an excuse to myself in recent past. And some days I even believed it.
The Great Potential spreads itself ahead of me now and asks "What are you gonna do about it?"