Why is it that some days you wake up ready to take on the world, get a million things done and go to bed feeling like it was a wonderfully productive day, and wake up the next morning, wondering why you should bother getting out of bed at all?
I am on the second day of that situation, and am really kinda hating it. Yesterday was great! I did laundry, got to the bank, went grocery shopping, cleaned the kitchen, paid bills, and had dinner ready when my husband got home. I was felling so good when I first got up this morning too, I was going to be even more productive than yesterday. And so far, the last load of laundry is sitting on the couch, sorted into piles of "hang" and "fold". So far, I have folded the socks. All since about 8 am. Wahoo.
And re-reading that, I couldn't help but laugh. While I have not had the most productive morning, I was up at 7, and I showered and ate breakfast before I got the laundry out of the dryer. I got my hubby off to work, and have been trying to think of what to have for lunch so he can eat as soon as he gets home. (He has long and short days. Yesterday was a LONG DAY and so today is a short one.) What is it about my poor head that tells me that if I haven't gotten really going in the first two hours of my day, I am a failure?!
We begin again, and not even behind, because it is still morning, and I still have all day to get things done. And I think I will start with picking up the living room, because the clutter covering not only mu couches, but also both coffee and end tables, is part of what is bothering me. I am a cluttered person by nature, my whole family is that way, but in the last few years I have learned that clutter is VERY BAD for my sanity. It makes me anxious and irritable, which, in turn, make me cranky and inclined to yell. Not good.
So, 15 minutes on the timer for a quick pick-up. Go!