Everything ends. Also this holiday. The suitcases are opened on the bed and I would be less sad and aware of how little is true of everything I design every year when we return, it starts, it starts again. Every year I plan blessed:
- The revolutionary hair cuts that eventually become I like to give just a slight trim!
- interesting to follow courses of food (the family would be really so grateful.)
- to become a sommelier (for years I'm trying to find the time so at least I can get drunk for the sake of study).
- to make sport at the highest levels. On holiday I approached the race: a day for 5 minutes, then 10 then 15 and that's it. Nun ce I can gets!
- to buy a bike and leave the car. Then dream of being run over and give up.
- to read all the books I buy at a time that is not infinite.
- to have a house to live in the countryside where the children outdoors and in nature and animals.
cause selfish Projects are joined by a few years those related to the act by mom creative, constructive and positive energy release in the offspring. And then return here to design great courses of anything to put forth every effort.
Painting, music, English, swimming, circus arts, and who knows what else!
then resumes. And it is a race. All projects are dwindling day by day, day in and crush messy, confusing, and tachycardia. I wish I had the big project this year to maintain at least a little more than half of what my head has engaged, picked clean and made it almost possible in this summer of dreams and castles in the air (my real specialty). Not everything. Just a little more than half. Maybe, maybe, who knows, this is the good time that I can. Maybe, in fact.
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