Despite wanting to stay home with all my heart, I left my house at 5:50am this morning, for the umpteenth time, to head to work, leaving behind my home, my husband and my two dogs. I just felt the desperate need to hold onto this moment of time, when we were all safe, sound, healthy and happy, sitting together on our sofa, away from the rest of the world.
I long for the day when my time is my own. When I can spend my day doing the things I want with the people I want. When I no longer have to leave my home day after day, longing for those precious mementos when I am free to be where I want, how I want, with whom I want.
I hope to retire in 11 years but, right now, in the front seat of my car, waiting in the garage for my work building to open, 11 years seems like such a long time and so far away.
I’ve been told I shouldn’t wish my life away, but I feel like I’m wishing for my life to begin.