“The good life is when you get up in the morning and can’t wait to start all over again.”

Every morning my five year old son wakes and within seconds, after sitting up, opening his eyes, readjusting to light and figuring out where he is, he is set. Ready to go, to start his day. After all there is so much to do. So many things to explore, to play with, to understand. Time is precious. This he already knows intrinsically. Some evenings, when he has had a particularly full, exciting day and he is is happily tired and I can practically see his head spinning, he will cry and say ‘I don’t have time to go to bed. I hate sleeping. I need to play. I can’t wait until tomorrow’.

How I wish I still held that sentiment. Now a days, yes, I still look forward to so much, but mainly I am tired. So tired that all I cam wait for is to get to relax, to drift off into a deep, refreshing sleep. I want so much, I still have so many dreams for me, my life, my son, my family. Yet achieving them takes so much more effort and time. Age is a fucker. It slows you down, it makes you complacent and adjusted. Age, or Thyroid disease, or a combination. All I know is I wish dearly that I could say that I can not wait for another day, every day. Many days it holds true. But just as many, I am too tired to think.