The end of the day

The day is done.

The house is a mess.

Duplo blocks tell the story of three little boys who built spaceships. Little socks, they kept chubby little feet warm. I’m too tired to clean up, I need sleep. Too empty and ?aimless to sleep. Too tired to take a shower, my preferred method of ‘shut down mode’. ?Life is pointless. I don’t feel like tomorrows. I don’t know why I was so excited this morning. About a clean kitchen ?counter. And raisin bread. Who cares about clean kitchen counters and raisin bread anyway?

It could get me down for the rest of the day, the rest of the week. But today, it doesn’t.

Inside I know, beneath the aimless, floundering feeling…this too shall pass. No need to make it into a bigger deal then it is. I am tired. I need sleep. A new day shall dawn.

I do think the dawning day would be nicer to start in a clean(er) house, so I give myself 30 minutes for emergency cleanup. I would lie awake for 30 minutes worrying about the mess anyway. Nothing lost.

Dishes, clutter, clothes, kefir, those spots on the floor. Partly cleaned up looks so much better.

And tomorrow can start fresh and cluttter free with oatmeal pancakes. Although, when I think about it…what is exciting about oatmeal pancakes anyway?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.


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