I got up yesterday full of energy and mostly ran on time. Got to work on time, despite finding out that both my headlights had burned out (drove with the brights on which still worked and hated every minute of it. I apologize to everyone’s whose eyes I hurt). I started feeling sluggard throughout the work day, but I got through telling myself I needed to make my stops, cook dinner, and early bedtime. I broke down and bought dried pineapple at Wal-Mart, and the sugar rush got me home.
Got home too late to change the headlight lams and felt completely unmotivated to do anything. Cooked the ginger chicken with stir-fried veggies, but only ate a couple of bites. Went to bed at 9:30pm and then had a fit trying to fall sleep. That took anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour; I didn’t watch the clock.
The end result being I was only able to pull myself out of bed with enough time to get dressed, get lunch, and cook supper since I won’t have energy tonight to cook. I even washed dishes while I was waiting on the oven. It was like a cascading pattern of lateness. Which leads me to my question, why is Tuesday so hard? What makes it so hard? It’s supposed to be Monday. The whole world stereotypes Monday as the worst day of the week.
Today, I’ve drunk less caffeine—just in case that was it. I can go straight home and nuke supper—no stops to make. I’ll be sure to eat a handful of nuts before I walk out the door for my homeward commute. And hopefully, I’ll get home with time to do headlights.