Damian
18 December 2007

I’ve become a flake.  I hate being a flake.  I was a flake in my 20s.  I was the flighty sister that you could never rely upon.  I liked this persona and even fostered it.  It let me get out of a lot of responsibilities.

But then, in my 30s, I changed without planning it or even realizing it.  I became reliable.  If you needed something to get done in the family, it became known that you could leave it with me.  And it turned out, I liked being reliable.  I liked being the responsible one.

But now that I have two children, I have become the flake again, and I’m really not happy about it.  Emails go unanswered; promises remain undelivered; the house does not get cleaned before guests arrive.

I hate being a flake.  I hate it.  I’m just going to have to learn how to have two small children and not be a flake.  That takes work though, and I am still a bit lazy.  That never changed.