swallowed by a whale

I feel like life swallowed me whole a few months ago. Thank goodness I wasn't digested bone by bone. As with Jonah in the belly of the whale, I will emerge one day and move on.
One of my laments is that I crave alone time. And I do not get enough of it. I miss the sense of space to be simple, to think, to read a book, to gather myself once more into a cocoon where I am all there is. To me time by myself is a luxury. There hasn't been much of that for a long long time.
Calling it a luxury is a relative term. I know of people who have too much time to reflect. They hunger for connections and interruptions.
So, is it all about balance? Or is it about being grateful for the plate we have in front of us?
Here's a thought...my whale is my sense of responsibility. I have to think about this some more.
How do you deal with the days you feel pulled in every direction and all you want is to have some quiet time?