The Poor House

Good morning, Amanda,

I was so exhausted last night I went to bed by 9:30. And slept until 8. But I am feeling better: coffee by my side, ready to write at 8:30.

I think as the week went on I grew more and more tired. It was a long week, especially since, by contrast, the previous week was a breeze--I had no school Monday, workshop day Tuesday, then ended up staying home on Thursday because I wasn't feeling well. Then, remember this week I didn't start out refreshed to begin with, then I had 2 late game nights (idiot) so by Wednesday I was looking forward to the weekend and a second chance at sleep.

Interestingly enough, the more tired I got the less able I was to keep focused and positive. All I thought about was finances and it was depressing and distracting. Suddenly, I didn't know how to be in a good mood, had no recollection of all my the happy times I have had here recently, how much I have enjoyed getting guest-ready and entertaining, how much I like just kicking my feet up and reading magazines. Instead I felt relegated to coming home to the Poor House. Honestly, I wasn't sure what or when I would start to feel better. Because the lottery is an impossibility (I don't play), I knew I needed at least needed a paycheck and a plan, but didn't know if that would work on its own. By the end of the day yesterday those were all set, but I still went to bed exhausted and distracted. This morning, as soon as I woke up I was ready to write and enjoy the weekend. A paycheck, a plan, and sleep--the winning trifecta.

After two busy weekends, I am looking forward to having nothing to do. I'm not hoarding the first half to myself before heading to L's for the second, not getting on the busy end of a pot of chili to take it up to W for a tailgate, and there's no pizza dough in my fridge that I will feel compelled to share with the niece and nephew whom I feel I have been neglecting. This weekend I may make soup. I may do laundry. I may work on some projects. Then again, I may just lie around in flannel pants and a fleece top for 48 hours and not bother to take a shower. No commitments or promises to anyone, including myself.

I wonder what you have in store for the weekend, and look forward to hearing about it.

Have a good day. Love, Barb