And I’m not feeling well. I’m not sure exactly what it is—whether it’s what my kids have both had (which involved a surprise for mommy two nights in a row, from the little guy), or if it’s more. Or less. My house still looks like a disaster area, I want to clean it up but doing more than one room or one task at a time isn’t happening. I’m going to go work on the kitchen because it’s a mess (thanks to Mr. Baker—he made the turkey we got from church last night, and a cheesecake with the little guy earlier today), and I have to make a pseudo-fruitcake for my mom.
I just feel exhausted. I can’t stand this body, this house, or the way this body feels. In this house. 😐 Can I go back to bed yet?