Life has been so busy lately. Seemingly routine tasks like putting away folded laundry and emptying the dishwasher have turned gruesomely exhausting, much like writing a 30-page research paper where you must break the process into steps if you've any expectations of ever finishing ANY part of it. That's us. Put the socks away one day and three days later, when searching for clean undershirts, dig for those in the basket on the floor in the corner of the bedroom. Oh, and while you're at it, you might find a sippy cup that you forgot to take downstairs and set in the kitchen sink five days ago. But you forgot because, well, the phone rang, and then the DVR was asking if you wanted to keep Dancing with the Stars, and the microwave was beeping because the steamed corn you put in there ten minutes ago was cooked. Cooked. Much like my little noggin these days.
and I had no control over anything at that point.