I'm sitting by a vacuum that's running so that I can't hear the tortured cries of my son who has just been put down for a nap. He has a cold. A new one, I think. Or just a reoccuring state of goo that is occupying his sinuses and draining constantly out his nose. I need to take him into the doctor. I hate doctors.
Okay, I don't really hate doctors, and both pediatricians I have had for my kids have been great. But when you have doctor bills that have to be paid from broken legs and vaccinations, etc., then I start to do a transference number from the check I have to write to the doctor whose office I'm writing the check out to. Silly me.
But the poor boy really needs to sleep. And I really need him to go to sleep. So the vacuum is humming away, suggesting that maybe I actually use it for it's original purpose at the same time I am using it for sleep inducement. And I will. Once I get the scattered baby toys all picked up.
All in all, today, albeit cold, is sunny (for the moment). No one woke me up at 5 a.m. for breakfast, and although I am still in my pajamas, I think today is going to be a good day. I have some energy which is going to be spent in the newly minted, as of last Monday, weekly ritual of getting the house entirely clean! It's a good day for that, coming on the heals of our Day of Rest. Which is semi-restful, in some sense I'm sure. But also ensures that the house does need a good pick-up because I don't clean on Sundays. So, off I go! I may even try to throw in some leg-lifts and crunches while I'm at it.
I used to not be so much a fan of Mondays. But with the vacuum sucking up air noisily beside me, I can't help but feel that Mondays aren't so bad, after all. I'll let you know it if turns out I've been overly optimistic!