I spent all last week wondering why I was so tired, struggling to keep myself awake, and then staring at my bedroom ceiling, with the leftover glow-in-the-dark stars and moon, into the wee hours.
My Mom, already worried so much her shopping genes had kicked in big time, was busy suggesting I take a break, get some help, and plenty other trying-to-be helpful suggestions. The kids all shifted their internal clocks and nights were spent pleading with Emma to please go to sleep, honey, it’s far too late, at 11pm. Days were spent checking to see if Addison was still breathing at 11 am.
Sunday, Ron finally figured it out while I was mid-crank. “Did you take a walk lately?” Well, crap. While Addison was in hospital, I did try to use the stairs when I thought of it, but since he’d been home, I barely went out the door, let alone walking. So whatever angst I was in the middle of stopped right there, I grabbed a CD (Madonna’s Greatest Hits Vol 2, if you must know) and high-tailed it up the back road.
Yesterday, I got the mail and admonished Ron to stop picking it up at lunch time.
Today, I am still kinda tired, but I feel much, much better. I even got up before 9. (8:46 but still…)
Im glad you are feeling better!