I'm going to be selfish.

I really suck at carving out time for myself. 

I've gotten a ton better at making time for my running.  I've practically designated Tuesday & Thursday nights as well as Sunday mornings as Religious Holidays in my house.  The fact that I've done so has had awesome results.  I've become a much more dedicated runner.  More passion has lead to improved ability, and it's paying off on the road.  If I was addicted to running before, watch out.  I'm approaching a new level. 

But thanks to PTA, a job, and three kiddos, I haven't been successful at creating time for the other things I love.  I haven't sewn, read, or cooked, baked, or decorated. 

My writing has gotten thrown out the window.  Writing.  Something I adore.  Something I find therapeutic has apparently become too self-indulgent for me to partake in.  I think a large part of that is because I feel so limited in my scope.  I can write about AD/HD for the magazine.  I can write about Running on this blog.  But if I feel like writing about the sky, a fabulous bottle of wine, or the awesome weekend getaway I took, I have no where. 

So at this juncture I throw off the chains and say "to hell with it."  This is my blog, my free for all, if I feel like commenting on my circadian rhythms, I'll do it.