Cabin Fever

For the past few years, I've wanted a cabin. Well, I haven't just wanted a cabin, I've WANTED a cabin. Try as I might, I haven't been able to shake this . . . compulsion. In trying to determine why the idea of a cabin is so attractive, I've wondered if it springs from having too many things to do and too many responsibilities that I can't get rid of OR some kind of personal boundary problem OR my not managing my life properly so that when I have a break, it does not suffice OR . . . something else entirely. I've also wondered whether somewhere in my subconscious the cabin I long for is a place where my children don't argue with one another and don't argue with their parents; where my household members are always cheerful, willing helpers; where I don't get calls from people asking me to do things I don't really want to do; where clothes wash themselves and find their own drawers and closets, where junk picks itself up and puts itself away and the place is self-cleaning (self-vacuuming, self-dusting, self-moping, self-scrubbing, etc.); and where we have some kind of food replicator where food cooks itself. Nice cabin, huh? If you see this place for sale, let me know.