Bad night, really. Fell asleep but woke up 1.5 hours later and couldn't turn off the brain. Staggered downstairs to have my mild panic attack without disturbing Tim. Staggered back upstairs an hour later, sure that I could now rest, and spent the next half hour telling myself to relax everytime my shoulders tensed up. Finally asleep by 2 or so. Tim woke me at 5:40 for who knows what reason. Awake another 1/2 hour. Maggie bounced in at 7. Even with a LARGE cup of coffee, I still feel a little groggy.
Weather is not helping today -- it's so cloudy, even with all the lights on it feels a little like I'm underwater. So much to do, more errands to run, places to go. No desire to go anywhere at all. No time to TALK with my husband, just talk. Am seriously thinking of hiring a babysitter for Saturday night so I can have time alone with Tim.
Some kind of virus is messing with me, but not enough for me to curl up in bed and be truly sick. Just enough to make everything more of an effort than usual. And to make frequent swallowing both necessary and unpleasant. Really trying to get on top of the cleaning, but just found out that my dad co-opted my husband's time tomorrow (cleaning day) and the really awful trouble spots (which are his) will probably not get cleaned.
Troubled in a vague way by the multitude of undone projects around the house. From where I sit, I can see two of them. Three more (mostly painting) are waiting for completion upstairs. Bleah. Stunning what an absence of sun and a lousy night's sleep will do to me. I think a little more coffee is in order, but this is always a deal with the devil. I will feel better for a little while, but the crash will be spectacular.
Is it wrong to want to just curl up with a book and ignore everything?
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