It’s so frustrating to feel like there’s never enough time to do all the things you want to do. I’ve always believed that we make the time to do the things we really want to do. I guess I still believe that. I mean, I do make a lot of time for blogging. But, as I get older, I find myself growing less and less optimistic. It used to be mostly laziness and procrastination I was fighting against, but now it’s laziness, procrastination, a mountain of responsibilities, and too many competing interests to count.

There’s only so much time. So, I guess it’s a matter of priorities. My top priorities have always been work and school. Unfortunately, they leave little time and mental energy for anything else, and it feels like so much of the rest of my life is piddled away taking care of the small things.

For so long, I thought about all the things I would do when I wasn’t in school anymore–when I didn’t have that responsibility hanging over my head. I knew this was only wishful thinking. I knew that work would be just as demanding. But, it wasn’t until I started working for my professors and witnessing their lives outside of the classroom that I realized the kind of life I was signing myself up for. If I achieve the dream, then I will be under the constant pressure of work and deadlines.

The thing is that, I want the career and I want the responsibilities. If I had unbridled free time to do whatever I wanted without work or school or family to get in my way, then I would be miserable. You should see me on extended breaks. I either wander around bored or I end up watching hours of mindless tv. Part of what makes the free time feel so good when I can carve it out of my day is that it stands in contrast to what I do with the rest of my time.

So it’s a balancing act, and I suspect it always will be. I go back and forth in my mind about the best way to spend my time. I go through phases where I try to fill every spare moment with something productive, and I go insane. I give myself permission to do whatever I want, and I get lazy. I can’t figure it out, so I bounce between the extremes.

The thing that nags at me the most is writing fiction. When I go on and on about how you can’t wait for inspiration, about how you can’t wait until you have all the time in the world, about how you just have to sit down and write, I’m mostly talking to myself.

I miss reading fiction too. It used to be such a big part of my life. Now I read only a few books of year. That doesn’t stop me from bringing books home from the library, but they often sit in a pile next to my desk until I come to my senses and realize I’m never going to get around to reading them.

I don’t run like I used to either.

I sure do spend a lot of time on the internet, though.

So I’m back to being frustrated, and fighting with myself as I search for that elusive thing called a balanced life that I’m not sure exists in reality at all.

*The title is a lyric from the Travis song “Indefinitely”

Remember how I was writing a novel? Maybe you don’t. I finished the first draft on July 31st, and I haven’t talked much about it since. I very intentionally put it aside to work on my thesis. Don’t ask me how that’s going.

I know that we make time to do the things we want to do no matter how busy we are. I, for instance, make a ton of time for this blog. I make a lot of time for keeping up with politics. And, I make time for being lazy.

I could make time for working on my novel. But, I don’t. It just sits there in the back of my mind, and occasionally I freak out about how I’m getting older and no closer to my dream of publishing a novel. Yeah, I have a lot of time. But, it’s easy to think, “One day, I’ll . . . . .” I don’t want to plan on doing things one day. I want to do them now.

Of course, I do have real limits. It’s hard to call myself busy, knowing all the time that I waste. But, I am busy. Between all my jobs and finishing my degree and applying to doctoral programs, I feel like I only have enough time to meet immediate deadlines.

I don’t know where I’m going with this post. I have so many things pressing down on me right now that I really don’t feel up to making some grand resolution to work on the novel. But, the thing is . . . I miss writing fiction. I miss my characters. And, it feels like the more time I spend away, the more difficult it is to go back.

Is there anything you want to do, but you keep putting off? Do you have good reasons for not working on it, or are they just excuses?