I decided long ago that I never wanted to be busy.  I think it was about that time I lost my thousandth friend to the disease and went into my first great silence.  

I decided that I wanted to be someone who would answer his phone and emails, not procreate until the kids could be my primary job and be available to go do something if you called me up.  

Not sometime soon, not next week, but this week.   Like on Thursday, maybe even on the weekend if you wanted.  Right now?  Sure, what part of town?

It's been great.  The decision has treated me well.  I watch all of the movies I want to see and get to take naps when I want.  I make music when the spirit takes me and write when the ideas come to mind.

I can and do invite people to do things whenever I want, only they can never go.  

They say, "Maybe next week, I'm busy with the [kids][others][game][papers][plans]." 

I don't call them back then maybe run into them a year or two or ten later and they say "I've been busy."

I shake my head and say, "I'm so sorry to hear that.  I hope you get better soon.  Call anytime."

They ask for my number and then they don't call and I'm not surprised. 

It must be infuriating to be around someone who has all of the time they wish they did.