How Can It Be a Day?
How Can It Be a Day?.....before it even becomes a day? You feelin' me? I swear this is how my days have been going for the last month:
Get up early to get somethings done before early morning work. I am in the bathroom alone, coiffing. All of a sudden, people are coming in and out to borrow a brush, out of shampoo, get lip gloss. I look into my closet, still the sheen of hope on me for a good day, and cannot find this or that to complete this or that garb. Either the trousers aren't clean for outfit or there is a rip in a shirt sleeve, a missing button from a cardigan. I arrive at the point that no matter, it is just clothing so I attire myself in whatever I can grab, fashion be damned!
I look into the refrigerator for my night before prepared lunch, nothing. My vacant Tupperware left with mere crumbs sitting on the counter. Someone had done a night-raid and found my lunch. I will prevail (I think) and just buy something on the way to work. I still am early enough to maybe do that if I time it right.
This is the time my husband says he cannot find the keys to his car and he has to leave post haste. "Take my car," I say "and I will look for your keys and take your car." (Back story, his car is my car, but the seat broke so he now drives it.) I cannot find the keys. I ask the my daughter can I take her car. Well, she needed it but consented. I am now running late. I jump in her car and there are my keys sitting there on the passenger seat. So I jump out, run into the house, throw the keys down to my daughter's car. I run out to my car. Forgot the seat is broken and can barely reach the petals. I put the keys in the ignition, thinking I may have enough time to get something at the gas station if I hurry. The boom drops. The car won't start. I run back into the abode, ask for my daughter's keys back and race out to her vehicle once again. Um, no gas.
I arrive at work and it needs no words. It is indicative of the morning just repeated with cranky co-workers and customers. I wonder if it may be too late, or am I too old, to just go live on a boat?
I arrive home to a house that has swelled from relatively 4 quiet people to 9 bustling personalities. My carpet will need cleaning and there isn't a spot in the house where there isn't a pile of laundry or a dirty dish.
I take a melotonen and lay in bed. I am exhausted in every way you can be. It has been a host of Mondays.
But I reflect. The things I have. I have cars to choose from to get me to work. I have wonderful family members living in my home. I get a paycheck. I have a closet with choices. Things could be worse, you know?
So go and do.
Get up early to get somethings done before early morning work. I am in the bathroom alone, coiffing. All of a sudden, people are coming in and out to borrow a brush, out of shampoo, get lip gloss. I look into my closet, still the sheen of hope on me for a good day, and cannot find this or that to complete this or that garb. Either the trousers aren't clean for outfit or there is a rip in a shirt sleeve, a missing button from a cardigan. I arrive at the point that no matter, it is just clothing so I attire myself in whatever I can grab, fashion be damned!
I look into the refrigerator for my night before prepared lunch, nothing. My vacant Tupperware left with mere crumbs sitting on the counter. Someone had done a night-raid and found my lunch. I will prevail (I think) and just buy something on the way to work. I still am early enough to maybe do that if I time it right.
This is the time my husband says he cannot find the keys to his car and he has to leave post haste. "Take my car," I say "and I will look for your keys and take your car." (Back story, his car is my car, but the seat broke so he now drives it.) I cannot find the keys. I ask the my daughter can I take her car. Well, she needed it but consented. I am now running late. I jump in her car and there are my keys sitting there on the passenger seat. So I jump out, run into the house, throw the keys down to my daughter's car. I run out to my car. Forgot the seat is broken and can barely reach the petals. I put the keys in the ignition, thinking I may have enough time to get something at the gas station if I hurry. The boom drops. The car won't start. I run back into the abode, ask for my daughter's keys back and race out to her vehicle once again. Um, no gas.
I arrive at work and it needs no words. It is indicative of the morning just repeated with cranky co-workers and customers. I wonder if it may be too late, or am I too old, to just go live on a boat?
I arrive home to a house that has swelled from relatively 4 quiet people to 9 bustling personalities. My carpet will need cleaning and there isn't a spot in the house where there isn't a pile of laundry or a dirty dish.
I take a melotonen and lay in bed. I am exhausted in every way you can be. It has been a host of Mondays.
But I reflect. The things I have. I have cars to choose from to get me to work. I have wonderful family members living in my home. I get a paycheck. I have a closet with choices. Things could be worse, you know?
So go and do.
Comments