As the calendar changed from March to April, life’s pace picked up and I have been running ever since, trying to keep up. I feel like I have been on auto-pilot for the better part of three months, and am pleading for some much-needed down time. It wasn’t just a jam-packed schedule that found me feeling squeezed. I have been experiencing an almost claustrophobic feeling living in my suburban neighborhood. Suddenly, the five feet or so that separates my property from my neighbors on the right and left, feels confining, restrictive-not unlike the image of a 13-foot boa constrictor wrapped around my neck. I feel sandwiched in between two not-so-positive energy forces, and feel my own life energies draining. And, if that were not enough, I also have two acquaintances who have individually appointed me their own personal Dr. Phil. (I guess that would be “Dr. Phyllis”.) They phone me at all hours with their tales of woe created from their self-induced dramas. I feel like all of my invisible boundaries have been invaded. I have been wrung out like an old dish rag.

The pressures induced by the “big squeeze” have left me daydreaming of a home somewhere in the country, nestled in between tall, towering trees, where there are no barking dogs and loud neighbors, and cell phone towers are non-existent.  Just me and the peaceful sounds of nature. A recent change of venue (read:vacation) has buoyed my spirits somewhat, and I do foresee several dates on the calendar with nothing scribbled inside the box. The two damsels-in-distress have refrained from calling, at least for now, and I feel less intruded upon by my neighbors. I am not exactly sure if these recent feelings are the result of stress, perimenopause, old age, or all of the above, however, I do hope that someday I will be writing from my cabin in the woods…….

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