Lately my mind keeps mulling over the repetitive nature of life. It is hard for me to accept that THIS is what life is. That our entire lives are basically a repetition of the same day, over & over. This is what life is? What kind of ridiculous waste is that?
Here is my life, the entire essence of my existence:
Wake up, go to work, come home, dinner/errands/chores. Repeat Monday through Friday. Saturday & Sunday, catch up on sleep, errands/chores, maybe some social event, home.
That's it! That's my whole life. That's the entirety of my existence. It seems really pointless.
