I wish i was a baller... (children of the 90's rejoice)

(sorry the post-title has nothing to do with the post, but it doesn't. at all. except very tangentially, i think.)
Today is one of those days of deep breaths and long sighs, I'm sure of the sort that drive spouses and children and mothers mad. It all comes from me, I tell you somewhat shamefacedly... I wish I were something different today, something more evenkeel, more 'gowiththe flow'... a little bit taller, a little less agedly pregnant, a bit more free, less bound in the negative... its all a choice, I keep telling myself, all a choice. I can choose my perspective, as easily, (*once begun) as I can choose my outfit. i really do think that, most days.  today i have made choices that i don't like, felt forced into by circumstance and history and i am tired, losing my capitalization as i go.  feeling smaller...
its the last day of school here and we have a bestfriend over to play and so i have made a sandcastle with the younger whilst basically doing damage control on the elders. . . it it fine, and an easier way to spend the afternoon than most. . .
and i'm still lost in the fantasy that i might be able to leave, escape it somehow... and so i putter on the internets and do not find my way... a few tasks here and there, a looking at fabric  that i need to sew, a dreaming of the single life wherein i am free to drive away.  when do i grow away from this pining for what does not exist? sheesh. * i still have not begun, and it is getting old. what would chakra carol say? or sister deborah joseph? i am pining for a letter. still looking without when i know, i know, i know, that ain't where its at.