You and I Both Know How This is Gonna End

It’s nearly 9 pm. The boy is in bed, the girls are finishing up homework and will shower and go to bed. I have dishes to do and I really need to prepare stuff tonight for tomorrow because that’s what makes me rush around most mornings (seriously, self, how damn hard is it to just iron tonight, make your lunch tonight, switch purses tonight and stop acting like you decided at the last minute to switch when OH STOP TELLING THAT LIE; YOU ALWAYS KNOW THE NIGHT BEFORE).

None of that is the real dilemma, though.

The issue is whether or not I should lie down knowing full well I won’t get back up. It’s like a wretched game of self sabotage that isn’t even a game anymore. It’s just a purposeful lie I tell myself: you can sleep for just an hour. You’re so tired all you need to do is recharge and then you can get tomorrow’s clothes together and switch purses and find your left shoe before you’re running around tomorrow morning cussing at people about how nobody’s shit goes missing but yours and you just had that shoe.

It’s so illogical, this nightnap, yet you seem unable to be deterred from trying to make it work. Oh, sure, sometimes you do wake up when the phone starts barking like a dog (really, that one scares me awake) but rarely do you ever actually get out of bed and do allthethings you need to do. Instead you stay there, angry at yourself for once again letting you down. And then you do it again the next day.

I know what you’re thinking. Treat it like meal planning and get your stuff together on the weekend for the week ahead. And to that I say stop trying to use your brain; nothing good will come from it, Gladys.

I truly don’t know where this stupid idea originated. I could see if I took a nap immediately upon getting home a little beforeĀ 6 because then I could be up by 7:30, but I couldn’t do that regularly since dinner is a thing that needs to be made (and I like to be the one who makes it on nights that I’m here). Maybe you’re thinking I should look into why I’m so tired to begin with. And maybe I’d remind you what happens when you think.


Oh, look at that. I’ll leave my copay with the receptionist, thanks.

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