There are some things I just can’t help. Eating the last few nuts in the tin even if I don’t want them, straightening out a crooked picture on the wall, … writing a blog post even when I’m too tired to write a blog post…
It’s been a hell of a few days, and the next three aren’t going to be any better. Last week I had two days off (meaning the kids’ dad picked them up after dinner one day and brought them back after dinner two days later) but the one in I should have had a full day off had an appointment for Alex smack-dab in the middle that only I could take him to, so I didn’t really get a day off at all. August was the last time I had one of those. All this to say that I don’t have the energy to write … anything, really. I suppose this is what being a writer is. Compulsion.
Unfortunately for all of you, it means listening to me whine about how tired I am. So here’s a consolation. A pretty picture. (Hunts for picture.) Ah, here’s one from the spring:
What are you compelled to do, no matter what? It’s okay, go on. Admit it. We won’t judge.