Lately I don’t want to do things that I don’t want to do. It isn’t just a casual “no’, but a stamp my feet, dig my heels in, try to make me if you dare kind of no. I simply don’t want to do much of what is waiting for me when I show up to work, or even when I open my eyes and take my first conscious breath of the morning. The child in me is pitching a fit with all of it. All those days and years of having to do so many things I didn’t want to do, and had no choice or voice about, have caught up with me. I don’t want to is a common thought, powered by a willful child tired of having no voice.