Sometimes I realize that I am an adult and it really bums me out.
Like, last night I got home from work at about 10. Hubby was at his brother’s house still so I turned on an episode of Eureka and let it play while I de-worked. I unpacked my bags, emptied my water bottles, and got into my pajamas. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, put on night cream and filled the humidifier. I’d step out into the hall and watch the show while I did these things. Then I fed the cats and unloaded the dishwasher and picked up the kitchen a bit. I sat down for the last half of the episode and I felt… good.
I felt like I had worked hard all day. I felt like I had gotten a lot of things done. I felt proud of myself for being in a good mood.
When the episode was done, I went to bed.
There are days when I get so frustrated with myself. Days when I feel like I can never actually do enough. There are days when going through the motions of housework makes me want to scream. It makes me bitter. It makes me angry.
Then there are days like these past two when things get done and I feel good about it and I realize halfway through doing the dishes that it’s kind of nice.