Sometimes, the tired voices win.
I’m not talking about my kids’ voices, either. (FYI, they don’t have Tired Voices. They have decidedly Not Tired Voices.)
No, I’m talking about the ones in my daytime brain- the same ones that whisper excitedly about aloe plants and oil changes at 3 a.m.- only during traditional waking hours, they’re the thoughts that encourage me to faceplant on a pile of questionably clean towels or on the stairs while wrestling with a toddler shoe.
This morning, mid-sneeze, my brain gave my body this thought: You know how your eyes are closed already? You’re practically already half-asleep! Go for gold, snoozy winner!
(I did not fall asleep on the stairs. For very long, anyhow.)
This weather isn’t helping. My inability to turn down paying work isn’t helping. And the whole not sleeping deeply thing is most assuredly Not Helping, either.
But I have a magic weapon- and it’s the finger of complacency. (No, not that finger.) It’s the digit which allows me to point at things and physically acknowledge what will, and what decidedly will not be getting done today.
Clean laundry? Welcome to your new home! It’s called CouchVille, and you will LOVE it here until tomorrow.
Dishes in the dishwasher? Close that door and now it’s a wall. You don’t expect me to do anything to a wall, do you?
The under-6 children in pajamas? I’m sorry, you mean their uniforms? Would you make an executive chef change mid-shift? I think not.
Work…? Okay, I have to do my work.
But that’s it.
Starting now.
(After I give this couch pillow a stern talking-to.)
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