Sometimes I really wish that there were more hours in a day. That way I would have more time to complete a  host of important task like napping, snacking, napping, going for rides, napping, eating out, napping, being the center of attention.

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And did I mention napping? It is such an important task that I would hate to forget it.

When I think of all the wonderful things that I could accomplish with a few more hours, my heart pounds with delight, and I wish that I had the power to add to the clock. But then, after my flight of joy, reality sets in, and my heart crashes to the ground as I realize that if I had the blessing of a few more hours, I would not only have more time to do the chores that I enjoy, but also the chores I despise.

Because a few more hours would not only mean that I would have more time to nap and snack, but also would have more time to do the dishes, wash the clothes, do homework, pull weeds, dust furniture, sort the clothes, fold the laundry, sweep the floor, mop, cut the grass, trim the hedges, and a dozen other tedious chores that I can conveniently excuse for tomorrow.

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What do you mean I have more chores to do, it is 9 O’clock and time for bed. Any chore that I did not complete will just have to wait until tomorrow.

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What, I got my wish and now I have three more hours of work before I can go to bed!

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Woe is me, I thought that a few extra hours would be a blessing. That I would have plenty of time to do the things I wanted to do. Instead its turned into a nightmare of do this and do that. Because instead of doing the things I love, I am doing more of the things I hate. And find myself crawling into bed more tired than ever before.

No, the more I think about it, the more I realize that instead of proving to be a blessing of a few more free hours of fun, more time in my day would only prove a fearful curse of extra work without a free moment to spare.

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