Life is Taking Forever

Why does it feel like life is taking so long? Maybe because every day seems exactly the same. Every week blends into every other week. Every month is the same as the previous months. I find myself reflecting on life in Philadelphia. I no longer consider it the hell hole I once thought it was. In fact, I look back on our time there longingly wishing we could be back. It's not necessarily the city I miss, although, I do miss it quite a bit. It was the life I was able to live out there. My sole purpose for nine months was to take care of my daughter and support my wife. I woke up in the mornings and watched cartoons with my kid. We asked the question together "What do you want to do today?" and the answers were always exciting. The zoo, the mall, the museums. Today I woke up, unsure of what day it actually was in my groggy morning haze and realized that it doesn't actually matter what day it is. I know I have to go to work, just like every other day. No one asks me what I want to do today for fun. I don't get to slowly wake up to Spongbob and my daughters request for juice. I get to be stuck in the I-5 construction with everyone else trying to simply drive my car to work, which seems so difficult when they won't let you drive on the road that gets you there. I don't mean to sound ungrateful about having a job. It's a great job as far as jobs go and the money I bring in is absolutely essential in maintaining an existence. I'm a grown up, this is what we do. But for nine wonderful months I lived the other side where I was the boss. I was the activities director for a 2 year old who adored me. I drew my comics and played video games in the evening. I had energy to walk for miles a day to see what the city offered around each corner. Now all I want to do at the end of a day is sit on the couch and watch tv with my wife because I'm exhausted. I know life at home with kids isn't all fun and games. It's a lot of work. A lot of work. I'm sure my brain has erased most of what was difficult about that life and replaced it with the flowers and sunshine that I now think back on. I remember out there not being happy as well. I remember thinking that I wanted a job so I could get out of the house alone sometimes. That I wanted to be a contributing member of society. That I would love to bring in money. Life is funny that way. Why can't I simply be happy with what I am doing currently, no matter what? Why can't I just find something inside myself that makes me happy and hang on to it? I love my family very much. I enjoy my time I get to spend with them. They make me genuinely happy...a lot. But it takes a lot of work, a lot of effort, a lot of yourself to live with other humans, to work with other humans, to be a human. I'm just feeling frazzled around the edges. I'm too young to be so worn out.