Just read a lovely, raw, real piece called “Sometimes” written by a woman named Arnebya at a site called What Now And Why.
It’s lovely because it’s honest: Sometimes, I am jealous of my children. They have so much time and opportunity and I feel like I’ve wasted so much time and opportunity.
It’s raw because it’s, well, really honest: Sometimes, when I pull up to my house, I don’t want to stop; I want to keep driving.
And it’s real because she exposes herself fearlessly: Sometimes I want a drink so badly I consider leaving work early to sit in a bar alone, read my book, and catch a virus from the peanuts being eaten by many unsanitized hands.








