pauses

I left dirty dishes in the sink last night, rinsed, but not washed. Lots of random cooking led to a mid-day running of the dishwasher, and I didn’t feel like unloading and reloading before bed. I felt like I was getting a little sick, and I just wanted to go to sleep. This morning, I wished I would have done it last night, but that’s the thing about decisions of convenience — they can’t be undone.

Still, the sun shone off the snow through the kitchen window, and there are worse things than dirty dishes. My sore throat seems to have moved on to become a low key headache, and I’m waiting to see if caffeine helps or if I need another couch nap today. (I am never opposed to a little couch snooze, wrapped in cozy blankets, drifting off to the sounds of my family going about their day.)

I’m trying to plan my week — lunch with a friend, half days for the kids, finally scheduled a blood donation — all tucked between the regular work and kids’ activities. Eventually I’ll hit the treadmill, because I haven’t managed to embrace walks outside in the sub-freezing temperatures, despite my promises to do it each year. (I hate the feeling of being freezing, then both hot and cold at the same time.)

All of these random thoughts are a little pause, a way to take a breath before Monday comes.

Breathe.