This car, which I photographed in a neighboring county, looks about like I feel. At one point in time a perfectly functioning vehicle, it now lies in a state of disrepair and neglect with
It is Monday, and all I'm going to do today is whine, be forewarned. Exhausted physically and mentally, I have far too many irons in the fire and not enough hands to hold them.
Here's the Whine List from Chez Chesapeake Bay Woman:
1. My paying job requires me to leave home at 6:15 a.m. and be gone until after 5 each day.
2. Upon returning home from work, I am absolutely exhausted, yet there is no time to rest. Animals need feeding; grass needs cutting; laundry needs doing; dishes need cleaning; blog posts need writing; phone messages must be returned; e-mails need responding to, children need to be acknowledged as human beings and fed. Need. Need. Need.
3 Due to sheer exhaustion and lack of time, I don't exercise or eat as well as I should. This makes me feel even worse.
4. The summer is flying by. It's almost over, and I haven't done anything with my children. They'll be back in school with hectic sports schedules and there won't be time to breathe. It seems like this summer has been squandered, usurped by my work and my life.
5. I don't want to be responsible for anything, yet I am responsible for everything.
6. I need a vacation.
7. Mondays are the worst.
8. There are 42,563,000 red chili peppers and 659,762 jalapenos in my tiny garden, and I have no idea what to do with them. There are only so many hot peppers you can consume in a given day without bursting into flames, and neither of my kids likes them.
9. My son turns 14 on Thursday. 14. I am the mother of a 14-year-old. When did this happen?
(I'm going to stop at #10, I promise.)
10. Although I could go on and on, I'm done, but only because I just promised to stop.
Thanks for indulging me. This too, shall pass. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow
Since you endured my whining, go ahead and leave me a comment with your frustrations. Getting it off your chest is the first step. I don't know what the second step is, unless it involves eating an entire bag of chips with four gallons of homemade, garden-fresh, red-chili-pepper-infused salsa, or a pint of ice cream, or both. I think the third step involves asking for help, but that's never been my forte.