A day well out of routine for me.
There were two bodies in my bed when I jumped out of it, so I didn't make the bed or pick up the room or even swish and swipe the upstairs bathroom. I just took myself down the stairs as quietly as possible.
The sink in the downstairs bathroom is clogged--but I swished and swiped anyway--even though I think I used my last clean cloth (the laundry room is still under siege from wall building).
I picked up the main rooms a bit: but I didn't wash any dishes. I figured with the whole family home for the day, there'd be plenty to do later. I was right--though it was mostly all of our bowls as the kids soothed their sore throats with ice cream all day.
So, that's it; a day where I did practically nothing on my list. My husband asked me to ride shotgun today while he searched for toys on my son's list for his 14th birthday tomorrow (and which we aren't celebrating until Sunday.)
I feel as though I did nothing today. I don't like it.
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