Stepford Syndrome
Fed the family, fed the dogs, walked/jogged 7 miles, researched half-marathons, spoke to my Grandma on the phone, lifted weights, did the dishes and the laundry, wiped up counters and floors, dropped off kids, picked up kids (4tripstotal), talked to my sister, hosted a playdate, spoke to my neighbor lady, helped with homework, played with dogs, made blondies, walked Zack to playdate, talked to Jen on the phone, emailed, marked up the calendar, supported a fundraiser, addressed packages, looked for costumes, listened to football stats, welcomed my husband home, read during football practice, listened to a book on tape, watched Dexter with Greg. Laughed, lived, loved.
Yet.
I went to bed, wondering where my day went. Where all my days go. And why I don't get more done.
Seeing it in print is helpful. But why do I feel like I'm spinning my wheels?
Yet.
I went to bed, wondering where my day went. Where all my days go. And why I don't get more done.
Seeing it in print is helpful. But why do I feel like I'm spinning my wheels?
Comments
That said, I know the feeling. The hours go by like minutes, or so the Eagles sang.
Sorry, it just popped into my head. My roommate in collage watched it every day.
-Stu
Then again, when the hell will we fit in writing it all down?
Instead, it sounds like you are having fun and that you and the fam are making friends, you're staying fit, and keeping in touch with - ahem - SOME of us.
Quityerbitchin. You're living the good life, sister. XOXOX