Last night I was tired. I mean bone tired.
I'm not trying to whine, but here's what I did yesterday:
5 am get up. Thanks to Faten, I know that it's just me and the Muslims up at this hour. I don't care how hungry I'd be the rest of the day, I'd fall asleep with my face in the halaal eggs.
6 am - 2 pm work. where I'm convinced that the aging workforce negatively impacts my workday in one very important way: they are all going through The Change and want the office kept at sub-zero temperatures.
2:30 get home and hubby goes to work, we kind of blow kisses at each other... hey, you're cute... nice to meet you... call me.
2:30 - 3:00 track down source for article, interview him and cuddle and nurse the baby (yes, at the same time), want to wring the neck of interview subject who KNOWS SOMETHING and won't bloody well give it up. Leaving me to have to dance around the issue in the article, I'm sure.
3:00 leave early to pick up my son from school, attempt to go through two caffiene related drive-thrus but find BOTH closed. WTH? Baby falls asleep in truck, as intended.
3:40 - 4:10 pick up Boychild and play at park
4:10 - 5:00 go to Toys R Us and pick out birthday present for Friday. Boychild behaves exceptionally well and I pat myself on the back for OBVIOUSLY being an exceptional parent.
5:00 to 8:30 three loads of laundry, a load of dishes, make supper, eat, convince boychild it isn't poison - just porkchops and mushrooms, clean up disasterarea/office/livingroom/kitchen, bath the baby, bath the boychild, lose my temper, find it again, apologize, change three diapers, fold clothes (mostly consisting of pile sorting), put the baby to bed and get the boychild into pajamas and in bed.
8:30 hubby come home and eats my lunch for the next day. Ahem. I coerce him into reading the bedtime books because boychild has been asking for him. I begin article that happens to be due.
8:30 to 10:00 transcribe interview from earlier, finish article and submit, make list of articles due for the rest of the month, cry, catch up on as many emails as I can, ignore the ones I can't. Try not to shoot evil glares at well meaning hubby because he's playing video games and watching TV.
10:00 fall into bed and realize I am really, really, really tired. I hope my article is ok because writing it has been like plucking eyelashes with mittens on.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Pulling The Words Out
Posted by
RedWritingHood
at
5:47 AM
Labels: Heather, WAHM Blues, whinging
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2 comments:
My goodness. How do you find time for this writing you speak of? Sounds like a lot of juggling.
Angie
www.alladither.com
Heather, you rock, girl!
Now that I know you are up at 5, you will be with me in spirit!
Faten
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