Heavy.

The weight of my life feels like it's bearing down on me. It may be the end of my little vacationette - the thought of tomorrow's work day was with me from the moment I woke. It could be the end of the holidays. I've left up the decorations which I meant to take down because my husband thought they should have another week. But they seem as stale to me as the leftover christmas cookies. I want to sweep it all away and start fresh, but that's just not possible. The husband wants this, the child that, and they are keepers and hoarders the both of them. I'd like to be free but the weight of their lives hang like an albatross.

I spent my day in another place and time and now I don't want to be here. Or perhaps I just can't think of what to cook for dinner.