I'm tired. So very, very tired. I am yawning repeatedly and my eyes are watering from lack of sleep. And yet, every time I lay my head to the pillow, I cannot sleep. My mind wanders and I can't relax. I've tried looking up obscure things online trying to bore myself. I had a bowl of oatmeal, hoping the carbs would make me sleepy. Both things have physically worked. I'm exhausted! And yet, that little switch in my brain refuses to switch off.
It's stress. It's the state of my kitchen. It's the 10 hours I worked yesterday. Remembering to make a doctor's appointment for Brandon. Wondering when and how I'm going to dye Easter eggs with the kids since I don't have any days off between payday and Easter. Surely I can come up with five dollars for eggs for them to color! Of course, even if we do color eggs, I won't get the joy of celebrating with them, since I work every single stinking Sunday, usually 10 hour days. I've missed out on every family celebration because they're held at lunchtime on Sundays. It means getting out of bed 2 hours earlier than usual after getting home at an ungodly hour. It will mean on Sunday that we must hurriedly hunt the eggs, then I will get to swallow a little food before groggily heading into work while everyone else continues to celebrate.
Sorry if it sounds so bitter. There are no fun times lately. I worked Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day and now Easter. I work with my sister and we have one other employee (who happens to be the owner's brother). My sister has off every Saturday, he has off every Sunday. Sure, I have off my two days during the week and MOST of the time, I don't mind my schedule. Really, just for once, I wish I had somebody accommodate me. I'm whining now.
Home life has been just as hard as work lately. Getting the boys to take out the trash is like pulling teeth. It doesn't help that it's starting to feel like the only time I see them is when I'm yelling at them to get out of bed before they miss the bus, or yelling at them to take out the trash. I need a vacation. From everything. Many people ask where does hubby come in to play with all of this. Sometimes you pick your battles, and it's looking like I've lost the war on this one. Sometimes I wonder if we live in the same house because it's what we want or because it's just easier this way. It's been the same way, day in and day out for 13 years now. It's not going to change. Hence, another reason for my stress. It's better we don't get into that one. Between his own poor health, his own insomnia, and his own stress, we are merely coexisting and doing the best we can. If he helps every now and then, great. If not. Well. There's always tomorrow. Why pick a fight over who's going to tell the boys to take out the trash when I can just deal with it myself and move on?
I can't stand much more of this lack of sleep. I want to go to bed. I really do. My sleep schedule is so confuzzled that my body doesn't know what the sun looks like anymore. I wake up every day at 7 to put the kids on the bus. At 7:30, I come home and my brain is going a million miles an hour, so I check my email, read, try to relax for an hour or two until I'm so tired I can't stand it. I shuffle to bed around 10ish (yes, that is a.m.) to try to sleep before the kids get home from school. That's until my phone rings, there's a knock at the door, or I get overheated from the sunlight trying to penetrate through my window. Sometime between 2 and 4, I get up. This usually gives me about a 4 hour nap. Then I have lunch, shower, look in the kid's backpacks and then we are in the car by 5:15 to take me to work. (unless it's the weekend, then I'm going in anywhere between noon and 3) Work is until midnight. Hubby comes to pick me up and we do the 30 minute drive home...unless there is the need to stop by the grocery or something like that. Typical nights, we roll in the drive around 1 in the morning. Toss the kids back in bed, then fix dinner for hubby and me. Do a load of laundry while we eat, then toss it in the dryer on the way to bed. Sometime around the 3 a.m. mark. Up again at 7. That's 4 more hours of sleep IF I can fall asleep.
It wouldn't matter if I drove (which I can't, as in, never learned), because I would still be on the same schedule. I dread Spring Break. While I do love sleeping in, my kids have not gotten the hang of it. That is why on Thursday night, I finally have a clean kitchen and by Saturday morning, they've trashed it again, just in time for me to head into work and no time left to clean it again until Wednesday. Thank you, sweet children. Sure, they're big enough for chores. YOU come make them do them. Make sure Brandon has his medication. You'll have a 50/50 shot he's going to listen if you do. You'll have to bribe Matthew. Lately he's discovered his Mp3 player. No chores, I confiscate. Worked so far. Of course, until Brandon comes behind him and dumps a bowl of cereal in the middle of the floor, covers it with a shirt and tells nobody for 4 hours.
It's approaching 11, my mind is still full of racing thoughts and even blogging them out isn't very affective today. My head is wobbling as I type. My eyes crossing and blurring. And yet, I still can't find my off switch. It's going to be a long day.