Do the Rats always Win?

     Home from vacation and back to the rat race.  There’s unpacking to do, mounds of laundry to wash and vacation toys to be put away until next summer.  Then there’s the phone calls to return, mail to go through and household chores to get done.  Monday is piano and hockey, Tuesday a meeting and hockey, Thursday is Girl Scouts and so on and so forth and pretty soon it’s Thanksgiving.  Looking at the calendar for the week ahead I have determined it is definitely back to the rat race.

     Oh how distant the memories of relaxing on a beach can get in such a short amount of time. It seems like yesterday I was walking along a pier searching for sea creatures without a care in the world.  Wait a minute, it was just yesterday, who is responsible for this drastic change in mentality?  Where did the peaceful, carefree woman go so quickly?  Can’t she come back?

     There is so much to do and not enough hours in the day to do it.  I couldn’t possibly take the time to play like a kid with my kids when I’m at home.  Or could I?  Those kids are the most important thing in my life, so why can’t I treat them like such when I’m at home?  Is it because we work at home or does my mind go through some transformation when I get back to Cook County?  Is it necessary to rush through life except when we’re on vacation?

     Gosh, I sure hope I don’t fall back into the rat race hell bent on winning my first day home from vacation.  I would hope there would be some residual relaxation left in me to carry me for one day or week of not caring about the race.  Couldn’t I just participate and not care if I’m not in first place?  Hmmmm, I’ll have to ponder that one later, I hear the dryer signal buzzing, so I better get going and throw another load in and while I’m down there…