Exhaustion

Hello my old friend. I haven't seen you in a while. With my cushy new Monday to Friday lifestyle I forgot how ugly your mug can be. I'm not blaming others; nobody held a clown (creepier than a gun) to my head and forced me to work four shifts in two days. Actually now that I think about it, the fine people at Visa do want their money back. Sheesh - you think they might have told me that in the first place . . .

It is sort of fun to poke fun at Mom when I'm tired though. Comments such as, "I don't even remember getting into bed!" lead to questions such as, "Do you remember driving home?" Oh, mother. Get ready for a new patch of gray . . . "I drove home?" Now, that isn't really a lie. It's a question. The simple answer to this would be, "Yes, you drove home" but that's not what it sounded like. I know. I'm a terribly bad person, but it's fun to watch her eyebrows shoot north. Give me a break, I'm tired!