I’m propped up in my cozy, snuggly, clean-laundry-strewn bed right now…listening to Valerie sing in the shower while Anthony gives Bella a bath. The cat’s meowing his crotchety, old man meow– the one where it sounds like he’s smoked too many cigars over those nine lives.
I am so frigging tired. In the past few days I’ve seen lice, nits, NyQuil, strep throat, spelling tests, birthday cake, deadlines, gray eyebrow hairs, sad friends, spilled milk, and too much Phineas and Ferb. (No, that’s not possible–they are comic geniuses.)
It’s a little overwhelming. I just need to freeze life for a few days, so I can sleep or be sick without the cats continuing to fill the litter box or the kids continuing to catch germs or the work deadlines continuing to pile up or the years continuing to come at me.
Does everyone feel this way sometimes? Am I just a weak, inadequate person for feeling depleted by life? Maybe Lyle has the answers.