And so another long weekend draws to a close. And I am left wondering where the hell it went and even more importantly — who the hell made this mess in my house?
There’s the mountain of paperwork on my desk, waiting to be sorted, shredded, recycled or transformed into origami. Not that I know how to do origami. And I’m fairly certain that if learning how had been on my to-do list, this, too, would remain undone.
The only thing towering higher than the paperwork is the folded laundry. It sits on my bed, waiting to mock me when I am weary and have no place to rest my head.
The mood in our home has turned sour, as the air is thick with the pending doom of Monday morning. My husband has retreated to the home office, to drown his sorrows in a computer game. The four year old is sleeping, undoubtedly tired out by the foot stomping, crying tantrum accompanying her insistence that she is NOT GOING TO CAMP TOMORROW!
If only I could call my boss and tell him the same. I’m not coming to work because I don’t WAAANT TO! I don’t LIIIKE IT! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!
The only happy one around here is the cat, who seems to recognize the packing of lunches and backpacks as the sign that tomorrow morning we will all depart and leave her in peace to roam around doing her secret cat stuff.
Yes, the weekend comes to an end with a heavy sigh. And since tomorrow is an early wake up, I suppose it is time I retreat to the bedroom and dismantle the freshly laundered monument to procrastination, slip into bed and drift off while visions of lottery winnings dance in my head.
