I’m tired. Sometimes, I’m better at fighting it than others. But today. I’m tired.
I sometimes think there must be something wrong with me. Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, maybe. Maybe I should go see my doctor, talk about this, get some tests. But then I’m too tired to make the appointment. And just the thought of hauling my jiggly bum downtown exhausts me.
So, I mumble (to tired to talk) to my mom, or a friend, or my husband. They just sort of look at me dumbfounded. Okay, maybe their rolling eyes are trying to tell me something.
Like, maybe, what else would a full-time mother, full-time employee, mostly full-time wife (sorry B. I’ll try to do better), full-time short order cook, full-time on-call nurse, occasional part-time housekeeper (and yes, I do do windows, toilets, laundry, and sort out toyrooms), full-time on-call psychologist, and increasingly full-time blogger be?
I’ve just self-diagnosed. It’s Chronic Motherhood Syndrome. Yup. I have CMS. I hear you can learn to cope with the symptoms, but the root cause remains, though, they say it’s not to be terminal. Thank God.
Oh, baby, I’m tired!