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My life has become insanely busy lately. I am up at 5am; getting the children ready to board the bus, then have baby boy (T) to day-care in time to be on the job sight by 7:30. I work there until 3:30 and then run to pick up T so I can be home in time to be there when the bus brings my daughter (I) and middle son (E) back. Next week that will differ, I will have to be at their school by 2:50 to pick them up then I'm headed to my second job until 6PM. Then homework, dinner, baths and bed...somehow I have to figure out how to fit laundry, housework and things like that in. I'm exhausted just thinking about it, but I do need the money, so I dare not complain.

Besides, I enjoy what I'm doing, I like to build things and remodel older homes. There's something to be said about using your own hands to bring an old home back to life again. I've always thought that houses were more than wood and mortar; they have a soul, have shared births and deaths, family reunions and funeral wakes. Houses hold a million secrets, wishes, dreams and sometimes-bad memories too. It always saddens me to see an old home falling down because it reminds me of the fragility of life, that we are only here for a short while and then we are merely dust and wind. I think that if you can prolong the life of an old house, you save the many memories and thus prolong the lives of those who dwelt within.

Anyway, I only said all that to explain how much I take pleasure in what I'm doing, good hard work that leaves me tired, sore and feeling as if I haven't wasted the light of day. I like the fact that I don’t have time to think so much about certain things, foolish things that I have done in the past. The skeletons don’t rattle so loudly when you’re not constantly opening old closet doors. It’s easier to forget things you were subjected to in the past as well; there is no energy to even deal with it in your dreams. Work is the cure to the past…I think.