Stuck

Well, it has certainly been awhile. That seems to be the theme in my writer's autobiography - write heatedly, passionately, and quickly...and then rest for a while. But recently I have been taking some time to read the blogs of others, and of course (not to be outdone), it makes me feel as though I should be writing, and once again the embers of the composer inside of me have begun to glow and spark.
It seems I blog in order to vent. Not purposely, of course, but unfortunately, times of stress, or anger, or worry usually bring about the need to write. So here I am...
Feeling stuck.
Is stuck the right word?? I'm not sure.
Don't get me wrong, I love modern technology. I love that I can be driving in my car, receive an email on my iPhone, open it and its attachments, read and respond in a matter of seconds. But with that instantaneous connection inevitably comes pressure. And it's really starting to get to me.
1.) I love my job, my co-workers, my students, my players, and 2.) I absolutely wouldn't do anything else with my life but 3.) seriously, this job never ends. There is never one moment of the day where I feel completely caught up - where no one needs the gym opened, no one needs me to text so-and-so to ask thim this-and-that, when there's no summer league game to attend, where an email isn't coming in about somewhere or something I need to go or do, or more often than not, forgot to go, or do.
Sometimes I just want to turn off the switch. To just stop for a second, turn off my phone, my BRAIN, for God's sake!!! Just silence. No one can reach me. No one NEEDS me.
I guess this sounds self-centered, but I mean the exact opposite. People can certainly get along without me, that's not what I mean. I have this vision in my head where I'm sitting on a beach. I don't know how I got there - I'm sure the journey was stressful, but I'm just sitting there, soaking up the sun, sipping a cool drink, and in my quiet little expanse of beach, things are moving, but the rest of the world is on pause. Stopped - not moving foward. There is no incessant tick, tick, ticking of clocks counting more minutes, hours, days of my life until the next thing I have to do. No one is dialing my number, typing in my email address, asking someone to get a hold of me. You cannot imagine how pleasing a thought this is for me.
That will never happen, though. As much as I'd like to pause, to "live deep and suck out all the marrow of life," life moves on. There is always more to do.
As I write this, I was asked to text all my players and see how many could make a summer league practice tonight. Ten texts, ten responses, ten more texts to say "yes, there is a practice" or "no, there is not a practice." Nope, no pause button.
But a girl can dream...