should

I have to be careful of the mornings. After the alarm, the morning cuddle and denial of said alarm, the waking of the children, the scurry for cereal and lunch money and shoes, and onemorehugiloveyou, there is silence. There is me and the dog and the cats and my pajamas and the coffee is cold and I should eat breakfast but I’m not hungry. There is the computer to check up on the world and the weather and who’s butt was showing on the red carpet and balance the checkbook and will it get warmer later and confirm work for tomorrow and then I realize its time to do something, or admit defeat. Husband calls to say kids are dropped off and something funny happened in the car and I miss you.

I go to the kitchen to find something to eat and what I really want is some cheese and wine and crackers but it’s only 9:30 so I eat reheated garlic bread instead. If my mouth tastes like dinner maybe I can pretend its evening.

The dog by now is on the driveway soaking up the sun and the cats are bored.

Here is where I should do something like shower or exercise or climb back into bed because today is too much, all those hours stretched in front of me is just too much, so much I could get done and say, I did this this and this aren’t I good?