That Thing...

Why do I always feel that there is so much to do?  Is there really?  I mean, really?

In this case yes.  

I have given myself another year before heading to France for good; I think I said that.

I know that the coming days will be filled with thinking, planning, excitement, self-doubt, and of course,  WORK.

There is so much work to do that I may even forget those aspects of life that seem to have gone perpetually undone all of these years.  I may forget the yearning for that certain something that I've come to believe will evade me for the rest of my days.  I won't name "that thing"  it's better that way.