Housework makes me tired and other such nonsense.

(Pre-script: This post pairs best with the song, "Cornflake Girl," # 38 on the playlist, so please go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...) (...still waiting...)

Yesterday I vacuumed like I was the oldest person on Earth. It took every ounce of energy and concentration to push that dagnabbit contraption through the carpeted parts of the house. When I was done, I felt even older, if you can imagine a person who is older than the oldest person on Earth.
And then I did what any oldest person on Earth or older would do: I fell asleep in the parking lot of Target. Target is maybe 2 miles from my house, maybe. When I drove there, it was the middle of the windy afternoon, and it was a chilly wind, too. But the sunlight streaming through the windows of the minivan felt like a heated electric blanket to me. As soon as I parked, I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and...dozed off. The white noise of occasional carts rolling past kept me in a constant state of perfect 'lull.' I eventually opened my eyes and had this thought: "I had better get out of the car and actually walk into the store. Oh, but look how far away the door is, and there is wind outside, and I am the exact perfect temperature in here." It's kind of like if you ever try to take a bubble bath in the middle of the day while you still have children in the house. It's not a good idea, I do not recommend it.

"But Michelle, excuse me, Michelle?"

I can hear my imaginary reader thinking,

"Michelle, trying to take a hot bubble bath when you are the only parent home with the children is not something a good parent typically does."

Gentle reader, you are right, and I already know that, and they crossed my name off of the list for the awards a long time ago. But I also know that half way competent mothers sometimes may try this, with the bathroom door open, of course, if the children are all playing nicely for 5 minutes, their ever present need for food and various forms of attention and comfort having been met within the past 30 seconds, if she is just naive enough to think that she can manage sitting in hot water for a few golden uninterrupted seconds in between household chores. Reality will whip such a mother into shape in no time, though, Gentle Reader. Never you worry. Trust me.

"Michelle, thank you for the clarification. I thought you were actually advocating for middle of the day bubble bath indulgences in the mothers of the world."

Gentle reader, bite me.

Ahem.

Eventually I just did it. I got out of the car, gasped as the cold wind slapped me around for a bit, just had a good old time of it, nasty wind, and then I was through the doors and inside of Target, to get the one thing that I had come to get: Enviga Green tea, which I typically drink throughout the day. I confess: I drink cans of Enviga green tea like it is going out of style, and I enjoy every drop. But I had not had any yesterday, for I had been out of Enviga, and Safeway has decided to discontinue it's carrying of such a perfect beverage. But Oh, Lovely Target Store that had 4 cases of my favorite flavor in stock! Thank you, thank you. For I was all out, you will recall. So I bought all 4 cases. When I drove home, I was still tired, and it occurred to me: I am addicted to the caffeine in the Enviga. I have been suffering from withdrawals that turn me into a tired person. Oh, what a world, what a wicked, wicked world. And all that time, I thought it was the vacuuming that had done me in. Now I am without excuses not to vacuum. I was just about to pull the "I must be allergic to the vacuum cleaner" card, too. It now looks like I will not be getting out of housework quite so easily. Dern. I need a bubble bath.

-XOXO,