Since the demise of my every-hour-consuming, 6-week Secret Project and non-pregnancy, I can't seem to get with the program.
Easter Brunch is a bust. My brother and family are too busy to come, so forget it.
I went to see my old dementia-addled dad the other day only to find out that his 93-year-old room-mate Saul is now deceased. He was a cranky old guy but, unlike my dad, had it all going on in the brain box. I liked chatting with him whenever I stopped by to take Dad out for lunch. His sudden departure bummed me out. Of course, luckily for Dad, he doesn't even remember that he had a room-mate, so Saul is not missed. There's no lingering sadness there.
It's 1:20pm and I'm still in my PJ's. Feeling lazy and blase. There's laundry to do, errands to run, groceries to buy, dinner to figure out and a Bug to be walked out in the sunshine. Oh yeah. I also need to clean up my office, sort out all our tax paperwork, the kitchen could use a good Spring clean, blah, blah, blah. So MUCH to be done if you really think about it. I have the luxury of time on hands but it all seems so tiresome.
Can't I just take a nap. . .again? Or maybe muster up the energy to take a shower and put on some real clothes?
What the fuck is wrong with me?