I know that time will eventually tick itself down and Friday will in fact be here. But it feels that time is stuck to the side of the jar. Killin' me Smalls.
Our house has exploded. The walls are still here but the inside needs a good purging to get better. We got all of our stuff out of storage the other day. A swift reminder that we (by which I point the finger mostly at myself) have yet again over indulged and have WAY TOO MUCH stuff. Things. Time. Energy. Space. Money. Wasted. And now all of that stuff is clogging my brain and spirit and it just NEEDS TO GO. Which it will (Cue yard sale next weekend). But for the next two weeks we will be wallowing through the mire of bad choices and over spending. So getting ready for an quick overnight trip to SLC is putting me on shutdown. I can't find socks. Heaven knows I have washed and dried and even folded (some) socks. Lots of them. ("Some" referring to the number folded, "Lots" being the sheer quantity of socks washed and dried by this person. Just to clear that up.) But they are hiding. Somewhere. And this tired Mama who stupidly took allergy meds this morning to keep from sneezing 5 bajillion times a day is now regretting THAT choice because I can't find the socks. The wee one wants to snuggle to sleep but he wants to do it on my face. He gets that from me. I have to toss and turn 50 times or so before I'm perfect and can sleep ala Sid. Knowing where he gets it doesn't help the face that we both need a nap. So instead we'll go for a short drive. (Don't worry Mom, I said SHORT drive. And the worst of the allergy med side effect drowsiness is over. Which means my nose is tickley now too.) Look at some elk. And maybe the socks will have come out of hiding.
Please be ready to go when Friday spontaneously shows up.
The gas pedal is the long skinny one. Or so I've heard. Drive safely but get here ASAP.
A Mom looking forward to a roadtrip
Dear Missing Socks,
Joke is over. You win.
We'll all embrace SANDALS