My days have been starting between 6-7. Start off with a load of laundry or dishes, get kids off and going, come home and work on that days project. Take "breaks" periodically by switching to doing something with my flower bed because who doesn't like to weed during their break? Realize it's 2 pm or later and I still haven't eaten breakfast. Eat lunch while walking around putting things back in their place. Back to project of the day before muscles get too sore. Dinner? Late of course then back to the project. 10 pm realize that scriptures haven't been read yet and no one seems to care about bedtime. Bedtime routine begins, and finally at 11:53 pm I climb into bed to check messages and slow down my thinking and ignore my screaming muscles and the still very long list of only the most important things.
I'm tired of hearing about others' long days of working on projects for 10 hours a day expecting sympathy and help. Tired of things not being done -- definitely headed in the right direction but not there yet. Tired of hauling furniture by myself, laughing at "team lift" warnings, being told "no, you can't do that" and having to pay for massages. My long days won't end at least until the outside of the house is painted -- you know, likely this fall.
Good night, I hope for a content six hours but excited I get a nap tomorrow because I work night shift.
Because flowers make me smile, from my front bed.
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| Mexican Primrose |
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