so caught up in your responsibilities, tasks, commitments, obligations, whatever, to have no time for yourself...
so busy that you have no time for your friends...
so occupied with what you are doing that you block out the thousand other things that can bring equal, if not more, happiness and pleasure...
so pressed for time that you forget to relish the cup of coffee..., or enjoy the brownie..., or dig into the biriyani...
so enmeshed in the do's that you can't remember when last you had the happiness of the don't's...
so routine-oriented that you forget the pleasure of playing hookie...
so engrossed in your troubles, that you don't see the shy, tiny little violet that has bloomed just for you...
so absorbed in the day, that you forget to dream...
so intent in running around, that you cannot remember what it is to just be still...
Remember the poem Leisure?
What is this life if full of care? to paraphrase - if full of only care...