This really wasn’t a bad week, when you tick off all the major categories: work was a little annoying but essentially disaster-free; the kids are both reasonably healthy and actually managed to put together three nights in a row during which they both slept through the night – no teething pains or couching fits for the little girl, no nightmares or awaking-fully-rested-at-4-am for the little guy; nothing major broke around the house (unless you count some slight damage to the dishwasher door when the little guy stumbled over it, my fault for leaving it open and walking away), nor was anything in the process of being repaired or reconstructed. Minus the Wednesday art show, it was a typical and uneventful stretch, and yet I find myself on Friday more than ready for the week to be over, feeling a little brain-fried and unable for the life of me to summon up a particularly compelling or amusing anecdote to round out the week’s posts.
It’s possible I’ve just been so used to the siege mentality for so long that I feel exhausted every Friday simply because that’s how I now expect Fridays to feel. If so, that’s a little bit sad and I’ll have to give some thought to how I can counteract that. I mean, there’s always vacation for recharging the batteries but that’s five and a half months away, still, so I’ll have to dig a little deeper.
In any case, the weekend is almost upon us and apparently I’m just going to kick it off with this undeniably lame post (that is mostly about how it’s not really a post) and hope that if any particularly magnificent anecdotes are called to mind in the next few days I remember to jot them down for next Friday.