Yesterday, I left school as soon as logistically possible, got into my car and drove, with one of my closest friends, almost three hours to another state to hear live music. We drank, we ate, we danced, we talked and we laughed. I rolled home at 2:15 am, only to wake up three hours later next to my youngest child, who wanted to know if it was time to wake up.
The activity of my life carried me through until now, when I lay down, once again, beside my youngest to help him off to sleep. There are dishes that need to be done, laundry that is overflowing, and a thousand details that were pushed aside for today.
I feel like a truck has slammed into me and I have no idea how I will make up for this tomorrow, especially since I will have one less precious hour.
But I promised myself that I would write every day in March. So, I wrote.