We are on a busy and funfilled excursion from birthday to party to wedding to honeymoon to birthday again. a fortune of celebration, a bevvy of love.

one should feel fortunate when life allows them to bathe in such festivity.

should is seldom an indicator of will. or can. or would.
a slight misfortune perhaps

one should that I wish were a could has much to do with the ability to shine in one's joys instead of wallowing in the guilt associated with the trappings of the fiesta.

You very much know the drill. I have eaten too rich, drunken too much, slept too little and there is laundry to put away. Things are piled and not stacked, I am not living up to my potential.

Naturally that which needs to be done has been accomplished, mortgages are paid, jobs are attended, the lawn is eventually mowed and clothing is laundered when it really needs it. Our home is clean enough to be welcoming to most, my personage presents without alarm.

But still the guilt and self doubt, the to do list buzzing like a fly you want to swat, the finger wagging until you almost bite it off...

And I am forced to question the very nature of potential and the ultimate utility of this protestant work ethic fashioned guilt that tells me I am slowly, sadly failing after a night of revelry, after a day of leisure. The instinct that tells me I have not earned my fun...

It makes me feel sad and empty and always always rushed. And then I sit down, and I form a list, and do not see a burning point that must be prioritized above "ate, drank and was merry"

This is my failing. And everywhere I look people seem busier than I. Harried and rushed and overwhelmed and stressed. Except for the few. Well rested and able to make the time. They whisper: Life is a to do list. If you are lucky.