This morning I woke up feeling like crap. Not sick—just more tired than when I went to bed.
All night I dreamed the same kind of dreams: dreams in which I had something trivial to accomplish, but never could make things work, and I would panic. All stupid dreams. One of them featured the Karate Kid and I was trying to remember the plots of the movies; that should tell you how dumb the dreams were.
I woke up achy and longing for nothing more than to crawl back under the covers and go back to sleep. If I had a real job I would have taken a mental health day. Instead I got Miss Pink to school and skipped kickboxing.
Because there was no way I was going to be the Karate Mom this morning.
Instead, I popped in a sing-along songs video for Mr. Blue and dozed on the couch in between demands for a new drink, or a book to be read.
Anyway, I finally felt human enough to get ready for playgroup. The hostess had made ceviche, which I’d heard of but never had before, and…oh, it was delicious. Apparently it has restorative powers, because although I still don’t feel like cleaning or cooking anything, I am sitting upright and able to form semi-coherent sentences.
Although now that Mr. Blue is asleep, I am considering taking a nap instead of showering. Let’s see: clean hair or sleep?
It’s not a hard choice, really.