I am so tired today.
Ryan said, “Looks like you tried to compensate for a lack of sleep with more make up.”
I didn’t miss a beat: “Yup. Figured with enough concealer, I could turn my the circles under my eyes from deep purple to at least a nice lavender.”
Growing up in the Bill Gothard-era of Christianity, I was always under the impression that make up was popularized by the adulterous, Proverbs 6 type woman. Now I know that’s not true at all. The true champions of make up-wearing are the mothers of young children who are trying desperately to convince themselves that they don’t need a nap. No, really. I don’t. I’ll just use more blush.
Does your house taunt you when you’re tired? Mine does. Never when I’m all upbeat and peppy and ready to take on the world — just when I’m tired. Everywhere I turn, taunting. I open the microwave to zap lunch — chili splatters all over from last night’s bachelor meal. I walk by the table and suddenly realize there’s gobs of dust between every spindle on all of the chairs. Gross. How can I possibly eat while sitting on such grime? I’m sitting nursing the baby, and even the fruit gets in on the torment — the cantaloupe is mocking me with soft spots, reminding me that I’m about to lose another $3 if I don’t cut it up today.
I swear, there are never chili spatters on days when I have energy.
Looks like it’s gonna be a candlelit night around here, Bri. You know what I’m talking about! :)