I woke up yesterday morning just a few minutes before my alarm clock, as is my habit. As I lay in the dark, there were several moments when I couldn't recall what day it was.
More disturbing was the fact that I was just too bone-tired to care. It's been a long week; one of those weeks when work demands your every spare moment and when being the only adult in the household takes its toll. The thing about having a partner is that it allows you to hold on to the hope --- however futile --- that your other half might wash a load of laundry, clean the bathroom, or even lend an ear.
But there is no other half in this house, and these days I'm the sort of hard-core realist who has grown weary of the business of false hopes. The whole of me will instead settle for a slow weekend morning with the prospect of an extra cup of coffee, time with a good book, and a nap.
And, lest I forget, there is all that exciting cleaning to look forward to.
My husband is gone for days at a time, so with four kids I know exactly how you feel. I often fantasize about going to the bathroom alone, that's how pathetic I am.
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