Well, heavens -- I haven't blogged in over a week. Trying to figure out exactly why . . . I suppose I've been busy, but not more busy than usual, I don't think. I haven't slept well this past week, but again, that's par for the course. I dunno. But here I am. Now what to write about . . . and maybe that's why I haven't blogged in over a week.
Leslie commented the other day that she is constantly daydreaming. Always thinking about something, even while other stuff is going on around her, or even while she's supposedly involved in the stuff going on around here. I know what she means. My mind is constantly wandering, too. And it gets worse when I'm sleepy.
And sometimes it gets so bad, I start kind of missing out on life. Leslie and I have missed three of her orthodontist appointments in the past month -- just completely forgot about them. I did the same with a doctor's appointment of my own last week (although I blame Jim Henry for getting me hyped up on Petra music that day, which made me lose much of my afternoon hunting youtube. Yeah -- yeah, it's all his fault). The girls' birthdays were a week ago, and we still haven't done thank-you notes or calls to the family (Keith thankfully remembered to call home for Mother's Day yesterday, or we'd really be in the doghouse.)
And then I get depressed and frustrated at how behind I seem to be getting in things. Which makes me want to take a break and get away from it all for a little bit. Which gets me even more behind. Yeah, you see where this is going. Dreary, rainy weather today doesn't help. Sigh.
Case in point: I was just interrupted in my writing this to drive Eastin to the busstop, and I couldn't find my car keys. Digging and hunting everywhere. I finally sent Eastin walking -- in the rain, with her violin and all -- because she had to get there, and I didn't know what else to do. I kept looking in the same places over and over again, because I couldn't think of where else to look. After she left, I remembered my purse falling on the floor of the van last night and checked there. Yep, there were my keys, on the floor. Luckily, my neighbor saw my poor girl running through the rain with her bulky violin case and drove her to the next stop for the bus. Poor thing. She needs a better mom.
I've started seriously wondering if this sleep problem is just my personal thorn in the flesh -- a trial that God refuses to take care of so that I stay dependent on him. Ugh. I suppose I could accept that, if it was only me that was affected by it. But it's not fair that my family suffer, too.
1 comment:
i DON'T need a different mom. Trust me.
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