My hair is an oily, tangled mess. I’ve been in the same pajamas for three days. Okay, four. A soft, wooly layer of hair covers my legs, and that one, stubborn chin whisker gleams in the sunlight. Wrappers from food I don’t recall eating litters the floor at my feet. I wince every time my 8yo’s basketball hits the wall, and for the hundredth time, I ask the boys to be quiet, please, mommy is writing.
The hubs is not here today – he’s off competing in an endurance race.
But so am I. Only mine requires brain cells, not fitness. And instead of one day, it lasts thirty. (more…)