Hubby asked me this morning if I was still tired. I said yes, and that I’ve been tired for ages – a month, at least.
Tiredness is now my state of being. My default position, as it were.
I guess I can blame lots of things. The new job (still loving it, by the way!), the kids, the commitments I’ve made, the choices – both wise, and stupid, which I make on a day-to-day basis, the housework, the gardening (not that much of *that* happens, anymore!) and many others spring to mind.
But laying blame elsewhere is pointless. It is what it is, my life, and it is what I choose it to be.
I glanced at Facebook last night, while waiting for cherub number 2 to finish brushing her teeth. Caught a post from a friend stating that the Writing Race was on soon, as it was Wednesday.
My heart skipped a beat. The Writing Race! A weekly event that I’ve been involved with for a couple of years – except in 2017, because life and busy and all that jazz.
But last night, I made it. Sure, I was tired, and could have probably done with an earlier bed time, but I chose to write instead, in the company of my writing peers and friends, and a darn good time was had by all and sundry.
And boy howdy, can I fit another hackneyed cliche in here at all?!
It must be that tiredness kicking in again.
Have a great week, dear Reader!