Places

Weary of My Own Voice

Weary of My Own Voice

Sometimes I tire of being me. Perhaps others tire of me, too.

I've tried to notice lately what happens inside myself when TJ is away on his trips for work. The majority of my psyche is giddy with the bare landscape of our weekends, time to do nothing but stay home, finish the kids' schoolwork, cook and clean at leisure, and have plenty of alone time while the kids play and sleep. There is the very occasional errand that gives me a mental reprieve from too much time at home, but rarely do I converse face to face with another adult except at church on Sunday mornings.