Somehow in this 4 day weekend I failed to complete what should have been a simple task. The problem is I assumed it to be a simple task and, having not truly relaxed in forever, I decided this weekend I could play it by ear. That is, I procrastinated. It would be okay because I only needed a few hours to get the work done and Saturday evening was mine, well, except that Saturday evening started awfully later after a long and fulfilling day. It would be okay because I only needed a few hours to get the work done and Sunday afternoon was mine, well, except for the parade in Lenoir City. Tommy needed that and it fit the "must relax this weekend." It would be okay because I only needed a few hours to get the work done and Sunday evening was mine, well, except that Cathy and Evan had come down with a migraine and fever respectively. I pulled the evening shift of getting the children into bed and getting school stuff out for the next day all while hearing Cathy’s voice in my head lamenting the horrid condition of the house. Could I possibly get the children ready, clean, and get the work done. It would be okay because I only needed a few hours to get the work done and I don’t really need sleep, well, except that it is difficult to type with your forehead and I presume that is what I was trying to do considering the number of times my head bounced off the keyboard with a series of ZZZZzzzs across the screen.
I attempted sleep but kept dreaming of my obligations so I woke with my head dully throbbing, my arms rubbery and weak as if I’d done hours of weight training, and my body aching sore. No, I do not have Evan and Cathy’s sickness. This is simply what it feels like to not allow yourself a good night’s sleep. Of course, I can sleep when I am dead. I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend but I cannot allow myself too many of those.