Some people are really good with writing about themselves. They can talk about the boring mumbo-jumbo of everyday life and it’s good; they make it not-boring everyday mumbo-jumbo.
Whenever I try it, I feel like I’m just complaining. I’m just desolately babbling on about this thing I like or that thing I don’t, and just how frustrated I am with all of it. If only I could turn it into something productive…
Today I woke up and was still quite tired. (By the way, I’m 24 weeks pregnant now and things are more challenging than they used to be.) So, I got up around 8.30 this morning, separated laundry, grabbed my ToDo List (which is conveniently located on my Android), and headed out the door for today’s work. Here’s how it went:
McDonald’s for breakfast–I was starving.
Wal-Mart for more than what was on my list.
Carwash–The elderly man in the car before me confused the carwash itself and the attendant had to reset it twice.
Laundromat–One of the dryers I used took four attempts at drying and some of those clothes still came out wet.
McDonald’s for boyfriend’s lunch–I had to repeat myself on multiple occasions when the drive-thru girl kept mishearing me and mistook “honey” for “honey mustard” and turned “ten-piece McNugget” into “twenty-piece McNugget.”
By the time I returned home, I was fatigued. I never did take a nap. I sat down and relaxed for a while, which helped, and now my head is telling me, “You will sleep very well tonight.” Well, I certainly hope so. I still have another 7 items on my list, but they’re just going to wait until tomorrow.
My last task for the evening is a simple one: Getting up to reheat my bowl of oatmeal that set here while I typed this, but damnit, it should grow legs and do it itself.
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