a letter to Monday
Dear Monday,
Here we are again; I guess it must be fate.
I made an outline of my New AND Improved schedule - when I will post and when I will write fiction and workout and paint and clean and cook and volunteer - applying this little known concept called discipline into my daily round.
My world showed promise, until you came along. You, with the crabby, overtired kids and the dishwasher rack, bowing to pressure, spilling broken glasses and mugs all over my messy kitchen.
(Oh, be careful, I think I got all the glass, but NO, I am not *yelling* at you it's just that - OUCH - see? I just got a sliver of glass in...yes, I will make you some breakfast and please stop crying over Pat (loaned to another sad child) and yes, I will put green goo in your hair as soon as I pull my head from the oven.)
Monday! For shame!
Maybe we should slow down, see other people. I've always had a soft spot for Thursday.
I'll facebook you. I promise.
Love,
Mama Milton
Here we are again; I guess it must be fate.
I made an outline of my New AND Improved schedule - when I will post and when I will write fiction and workout and paint and clean and cook and volunteer - applying this little known concept called discipline into my daily round.
My world showed promise, until you came along. You, with the crabby, overtired kids and the dishwasher rack, bowing to pressure, spilling broken glasses and mugs all over my messy kitchen.
(Oh, be careful, I think I got all the glass, but NO, I am not *yelling* at you it's just that - OUCH - see? I just got a sliver of glass in...yes, I will make you some breakfast and please stop crying over Pat (loaned to another sad child) and yes, I will put green goo in your hair as soon as I pull my head from the oven.)
Monday! For shame!
Maybe we should slow down, see other people. I've always had a soft spot for Thursday.
I'll facebook you. I promise.
Love,
Mama Milton
Comments
My reader is busting at the seams.
I'll be by. For reals.
Discipline to your daily routine. Please let me know how to do that. I am lost.
Hope the broken glass is out of your finger and kitchen.
Our new-ish fridge broke (well a door broke) so it doesn't close well. Hubby claims he can fix it; I hope so - I am not up for blowing a stack on a new one!