On this, the evening before my "blogiversary", I find myself usually with full weekends two weeks in advance, forcing me into the mode of having to plan my life and schedule stuff and that sort of thing. Yuck.
That's how it goes, I guess. It's not at a point where I have to write things on a calendar (yet), so that's good... but I can see that happening if the trend continues. And I don't like it.
This isn't a new thing. It's been going on for a several months now. Once upon a time I blamed my lack of time on my job, which at the time was demanding fairly atypical hours of me. I've since gotten a new job with more reasonable expectations, and great gobs of time didn't magically appear as a result, so that apparently wasn't it. Though I will point out for the record that a) work, by definition, eats up a significant portion of every week, b) I fully understand its necessity, and c) I appreciate — reluctantly — the irony of not having the time to do all the things the paycheck supposedly enables. Welcome to upper middle-class America!
Oh well... it's an indicator of a full life, which is good, right? It could certainly be worse. But still, I really would like to have some of that time back. Though at this point, I'm so accustomed to its lack, I probably wouldn't know what the hell to do with an abundance.