I'm worn out. I had a productive weekend and got quite a bit accomplished, but at the end of it, I'm just tired. So tired in fact, that I almost did a freaking happy dance when the Princess called from a friend's house to ask if she could eat dinner there. Why am I rejoicing that my child won't be home for dinner? Because it means I don't have to freaking cook! How terrible is that?
I'm looking around my house and I'm not seeing the fact that the laundry is clean, folded and put away. Or that the kitchen is spotless. Or that I planted tomatoes, zucchini, bell peppers and petunias on my deck. Or that the deck is cleaned off and ready to enjoy for spring and summer. Or that I weeded and spread mulch through the garden (or a good part of it, anyway). Or that I planted a ton of plants in said gardens (paid for with gift certificates --- my friends know me well!). Or that I learned to change a spark plug and air filter in my mower.
No, I don't see those completed projects. I see the dustbunnies that still need to be chased, the splintery remnants of a stick that Thing 2 managed to sneak into the house and chew to bits. I see the floors that need to be swept and mopped or vacuumed. I see the coupons that need to be clipped and sorted so we can freaking afford to eat. I see the windows that need to be cleaned of puppy nose prints. I see the budget that needs to be worked on because it is OUT OF CONTROL. I see everything that it is still undone.
And I'm tired. I don't have the energy or motivation to do those things that still need to be done. Once again, I'll start the work week with all those little things nagging at me to get done. And I'm just too freaking tired. I'm tired of having too much to do, not enough time to do it and not ever being able to just sit back and enjoy all that I actually have accomplished because there's still too much to do for one person. Okay, end of bitchfest. Time to go water those plants.