Where Am I?

I was driving alone, musing, by myself. Walking by was a mother and child all bundled up in a stroller, for it's a cold one today around here. I remembered that I still don't have warm snow boots for my son, and in fact, sent him to school in sneakers. Now, this is no great crime, but then I also remembered that he doesn't have gloves or mittens that fit. He is just a little fellow and will play in the cold until his fingernails turn black. I'm supposed to be looking out for him.

Where am I?

I'm not taking care only of every whim I have. No, that's an exaggeration. I'm quite dutiful and responsible. What I am, however, is tuned out. I spend money as I please simply because I can, because it's there. I ignore the mail. I owe people letters and calls. I don't exercise or do yoga or sit down with a good book.

I have no balance. I'm either compulsively responsible or egregiously remiss. I indulge pretty much every whim, claiming 'This is what I need right now.' I'm not really talking about sex or men. I'm talking about bad habits like overspending, ignoring needy family members, watching tv. I just feel indulgent and lazy, as though I think like a child these days.

I don't specifically want to clean more or pay more bills; I just want to feel like I'm dealing with what needs dealing with. And I don't. So here I go to tackle the laundry.