It’s Saturday, aka “rest day.” For me, it means a day when I don’t have to get out of bed. So it took me quite a while to do just that. I went about my blah day, feeling blah and resisting doing anything productive.
While I accomplish nothing useful, I demand that my children pick up their shoes and the clothes that they have peeled off downstairs. That is the thing with boys on hot days, they undress anywhere and leave their clothing everywhere.
I insist that they pick up their clothes “NOW” and take them up to their rooms. Then I take my coffee into my room where piles of my clean clothes sit on the chair and in the laundry basket awaiting my attention. I hear my voice saying “NOW,” to which I respond, “What-EVER.”
I have a packet of papers that need completing, well, NOW. My resume needs further tweaks, and I need to get my the boys dirty clothes washed, folded, and up to their rooms. But I just don’t feel like it.