God forgive me, I am jealous of my cat!
Is it a sin to covet the life of your cat? If so, I am probably going to hell.

It's so hard Monday mornings to look at her sitting smugly on the foot of my bed, watching me as a fumble towards my closet looking for something that isn't wrinkled and matches.

As a journalist and a mom, my life is filled with deadlines: get child up and vertical, make sure he brushes teeth and has clothes on right-side out, feed him and the pets, shove child gently into car - making sure all of his homework is done and signed and then head off to school and work without getting a speeding ticket.

From there it's a matter of hitting deadlines at a frantic pace. And if breaking news rears its ugly head, kiss that timetable goodbye and plan on burning the midnight oil. (No wonder reporters keep both aspirin and antacids in their desk drawers).

After I make it across the finish line for the day it’s a race to pick up the kids, get supper on the table, do homework, and fulfill the rest of life’s obligations before falling into bed exhausted.
My cat's daily agenda is a little more sedentary: cajole the nearst human to fill up her food dish, visit the litter box then find pool of sunshine to bask in, oblivious of the crazy woman running around trying to find a lost shoe.

Sounds like the life of ultimate relaxation. With all her most basic needs met, she hasn’t a care in the world.

We humans, on the other hand, missed the memo on how to relax. From the moment our feet touch the floor we’re already organzing the minutes and hours in the day that has yet to unfold. With one eye on the clock and our ears tuned into the sensational headlines on the morning news, our stress levels begin to creep upward and we haven’t even made it out the door.

How do we as a society learn to relax when we’ve been brainwashed into believing that we need to be dialed in and connected to the world and all its woes at the touch of a button 24:7? How did we manage to survive before this age of instant information?

I often wonder what my great, great-grandfather would have thought our of insatiable need for stimulation. Being herded through the Port of New York at Ellis Island in the mid-1800s, it would be months before word of his arrival in America would find its way back to Germany. Staying connected meant a letter at Christmastime not a cellular advertising gimmick.

I used to know how to relax before I was infected with the sickness of multi-tasking. Armed with only a notebook and pen, I ventured off to find my favorite tree on a fenceline somewhere out in the back forty. Away from the TV, telephone, my siblings and the undone supper dishes, I sat alone writing, the passing of time marked only by the movement of the sun across the sky.

Granted I have more responsibilities now than when I was a girl, my need for relaxation, however, is just as great. However, as a woman, I have this problem with feeling like I have to be all things to all people at all times. The key is finding the balance somwhere between the slothful existence of my cat and being Super Woman. Now if I can just give myself permission (without the guilt) I may curl up in the hammock for a nap in the sunshine.