Hi. I'm Exhausted.
Ever have one of those times when you get to the other side of a big event that went really well (except for the one arse who asked 15 minutes into the event, "Is this all we're doing?" and one side of your brain had to remind the other side that you were a Christian so that you didn't say what you wanted to the arse) but then you were so tired that you could barely sleep plus every time you rolled over you ached because you realized too late that doing the Bunny Hop in 4 inch heels wasn't actually the most intelligent thing you could do and then after a restless night you had to get up early to go back to school to finish cleaning up the event and marvel at how much recycling one little party can generate? Then, to top it all off, you have to clean your house and pick up your kid's math tutor and make beautiful food for the annual Carnevale feast which is a really important and precious time in the life of your little community but all you really want to do is take a nap?
Yeah. Like that.
It is a gorgeous springish day, with all manner of birds singing and crocuses popping up and anemones on special at the co-op. The Child, who is supposed to be cleaning her room, is wearing my tiara from last night and putting pictures of Corbin Blue (or as she likes to call him, "my husband") all over her wall. The Spouse is hauling $412 worth of exotic (and not so) groceries into the house. The Dixie Chicks are blaring and The Dog is running around stealing Mardi Gras masks. ("Odd birds," he's thinking, "must destroy").
Just another Saturday around the casa.
I need to soak my feet.
Yeah. Like that.
It is a gorgeous springish day, with all manner of birds singing and crocuses popping up and anemones on special at the co-op. The Child, who is supposed to be cleaning her room, is wearing my tiara from last night and putting pictures of Corbin Blue (or as she likes to call him, "my husband") all over her wall. The Spouse is hauling $412 worth of exotic (and not so) groceries into the house. The Dixie Chicks are blaring and The Dog is running around stealing Mardi Gras masks. ("Odd birds," he's thinking, "must destroy").
Just another Saturday around the casa.
I need to soak my feet.
Labels: Carnevale, Mardi Gras, my future son-in-law, tired, where's my tiara
cobbled together by Moi at 11:51 AM
4 Comments:
tell some one else to do it all and take a nap...okay i know you wont but i am giving you permission to do so. hang in there, you'll get it together, you always do superwoman
You're right. I won't. But other people are helping and once I start cooking I'll be over my bad self. But thanks for the permission to nap. If I can squeeze one in I will and I'll tell them it's on your orders.
I envy you your springish day. DC is still covered with a big sheet of hard, impenetrable ice.
If it's any consolation, Red, the Farmer's Almanac says that this is the week we're going to get slammed with the biggest snowfall of the year. I have a hard time believing that, of course, but just thought I'd throw it out there for ya.
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