I've loved being home but not working. I've done puzzles, slept in, put together new Ikea furniture, and generally lazed around. But now, I'm ready to go on vacation.
I'm discovering that there are still stresses incumbent on being at home. At home, married, with cats. I have to figure out what to feed V. I have to not let the dishes totally overrun, so that she doesn't feel like she has to do them. I have to play with the cat before bed. I don't feel like I can take a nap, because she's the one getting up early for class. I'm just not as free as I've felt the past few days.
I know I'm complaining; I know I have nothing to complain about. It is nice to have time away from the kids. I'm just getting spoiled, and now I want time away from the rest of life as well. Mainly, I want time with V, away from home, where neither of us are sick and we're not visiting family or friends. That hasn't happened since last July.
Sometimes I hate responsibility. I've been waiting my whole life to grow up, and usually I love it, but sometimes...I want to be five again.