I need a day to get away.
I need a day to go back home and shop at all the stores we don’t have up here (Trader Joe’s, I miss you so).
I need a day to spend time with just Quinn; a day when I can talk to him without the background noise of four other kids. A day when I can interact with him without the constant interruptions of four other kids. I think he needs that, too.
I need to mop my floors.
I still need to call the school district to enroll the oldest two for next year.
I need to call and find out what is going on with the new carpet that must be replaced.
I need to make an ENT appointment for Quinn. I also need to go spray some Nasonex up his nose. I hate that, and not just because two-year-olds aren’t particularly fond of having things squirted up their noses. I hate it because I don’t like the list of possible side effects, and I don’t have enough faith in our pediatricians to believe that this really is the best thing for him at this point. That is why I’m doing it every other day rather than every day. Whatever.
I need to make dental appointments for the four oldest.
I need to loose 10 pounds. At least.
I need to vacuum the carpet that needs to be replaced.
I need to catch up on laundry.
I need to finish planting my garden (though, with help from Tank Boy, I got lots done yesterday – he was very proud of himself, and rightly so).
I need to start organizing stuff for a garage sale, and I need to go through closets to pull out more stuff that needs to go into the vast piles of things that need organized for a garage sale.
I need to paint shelves to put in the oldest two girls’ bedroom.
I need to get thousands of pounds of food storage stored properly.
I need school to be done for the summer.
I need a month to go by without some kind of drama or trauma.
I need a day to go by without constant superfluous noise and interruption.
I need a day to get away.
Okay, re-reading all of that I realize it makes me sound all depressed and curled up in a ball on the couch. So, just for clarification purposes: I am not all depressed, nor am I curled up in a ball on the couch. Even if I wanted to curl up in a ball on the couch, I probably wouldn’t. It is covered in too much dog hair and crappy carpet fibers at the moment, which is gross. And? It would be depressing, were I already feeling depressed and wanting to hide on the couch, to see all of that hair and fiber. Now? It is just overwhelming. That is how I’m feeling: overwhelmed.
And frustrated. Because you know what? Even after I go clean all the hair and carpet off the furniture, it will just need done again tomorrow. Ditto with the laundry and the mopping. And the garden? Sure, once it’s planted it’s planted, but then it will need to be weeded.
Ever have those days when you just feel like a hamster in a wheel? Only all that running isn’t helping you lose 10 pounds?
Yeah, I just want to bust out of my wheel for a day. That’s all.