Moments

Moments. Those tiny little increments of time by which we divide our life. So insignificant ... and yet they comprise our entire existence.

I'm pretty sure I hate them. I hate the fact that life is made up of such seemingly humdrum pieces. I hate how they can be so good and so bad but are mostly just ... there. I hate how short they are. I hate how long they are.

Right now, I hate that they are all almost identical.

Such is motherhood.