Too Much To Do.

At my brother’s wedding recently, my aunt castigated me for never calling her. It was the kind of passive-aggressive faux-mock that gets my hackles up like very little else does. I had the comeback, though. “If I had more than six hours altogether, I’d come see you.” She lives in Victoria. It’s hard to get there. Every time we speak, she reminds me that I have a bed if I want to have a holiday with her.  But I don’t have the time.

The thing is, this summer has been one of the busiest I can remember. Monday, Tuesday and Friday I car-jockey before I teach at 10AM. I’ll teach on and off til six, five days a week. And the weekends are for chores, mostly.

When I start tutoring again in late August, I don’t think I can keep on going, even though I’ll be teaching starting in the afternoons. I feel bad about it, but there comes a time when I have to accept that, even though I like to be busy, enough is enough.

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