Wallowing in Pajamas

I’m not sure if the torrential downpour outside my house or the fact that my kid sleeps,oh, never, has anything to do with the fact that I am terribly grumpy and self-deprecating today.  I had grand plans of cooking up some chicken and dumplings for my little munchkin, turning the tomatoes that have been sitting on my kitchen table for two weeks now into sauce, finishing up some paperwork that has been sitting on my desk for exactly one month now and I am quickly running out of time, actually taking that pizza box that has been sitting my on my kitchen floor for exactly one week now outside into the garbage and finally taking the clothes that are too small for Ellie upstairs into the attic.

Would you like to know what I’m doing instead?

Sipping on a cold cup of coffee, watching Good Morning America talk about stupid things I don’t care about, while my daughter happily rips pages out of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day in the other room wishing we had a housekeeper.  And a landscaper.  And a million dollars.

There’s no excuse for it, really.  I haven’t slept in over a year, I should be used to it by now.  Nothing terrible has happened.  We have all lived to see another day.  Everyone is healthy.  We have food in the fridge.  I paid (most) of the bills this month.  Well, that’s not really true.  But I did pay the important ones.  The ones that people would come after you if you didn’t pay and include a little note promising that you’ll send more when you have it- with a smiley face.  Or a picture of your cute kid.  That always seems to work.

Sometimes, things just seem much worse than they are.  Today is just one of those days.  I promise to try to pull myself together and be thankful for all of the things I know I’ve been blessed with.  I’m just going to allow myself a few more minutes of wallowing in my pajamas, if that’s ok with you.

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