Growing up, I was lucky to live on a street full of kids. We were in and out of one another's houses all the time. I was usually the first one to go home. When asked why, I would reply, "I have to go because I have things to do." It got to be a joke. "Oh, Judy has to leave—she has things to do."

I thought about that the other night while waiting for a bus after a long day at work. It's bad enough that I can't ride my bike because there is too much snow. But, two nights this week, I had to wait almost thirty minutes for a bus that normally comes every five minutes.

And what was I thinking as I stood on the corner with a bunch of other impatient people? I was thinking about all the "things" I could be doing with that time. We were just back from vacation. I had been totally relaxed. But my work did not go away while I was gone. It had accumulated, and I am paying the price by working doubly hard to catch up. I had to get home because I had so much to do.

Some things don't change.