The thing I miss about childhood was having hours and hours of time where I wasn't accountable to anyone. I was a latchkey kid who had three or four hours of unsupervised time at home every afternoon before either of my parents got home. I used to read a whole book in a day, and do projects that took up the floor in a whole room. I didn't notice time passing until the room would suddenly grow dark as the sun fell. I miss the books and the pojects. I miss knowing that nothing would interupt what I was doing and how deeply I was doing it, whatever it was. The art project or the world in the book would be my whole world. And that was happiness.
As an adult I don't make up for it very well, I have consolations, but they are consolations, make no mistakes. Days out by myself, stolen moments reading in locked bathrooms. I try to schedual time for projects but they aren't priorities, not compared with people I care about, a job I believe in. And because I can't turn away the things I give priorty there is little time for the little projects and stories to really saturate my soul.
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