Partly, the problem has little to do with photography per se, but with the way that time seems to slip away each day with one damned distraction or another creeping into my life and robbing it of shooting time.
I recall my father, as an old man and long-retired, often complaining that he simply didn't have enough time to do many of the things he intended to do. Struck me as rather odd, since from my middle-aged perspective, he seemed to have all the time in the world.
Now I'm an old man, retired for eight years, and I can't manage to fit in many of the things I used to be able to find time for when I was working 8-10 hours a day (and commuting—Washington, D.C., traffic being what it is—for the better part of another two hours).