8 Minutes Remain

Tonight, I sat down on the floor of our half-bath to wait for the washer to finish its cycle. I felt like I needed a good cry, but no tears came. 

Today, I woke up before 6am to get myself going. Truth be told, I slept like shit last night, but that didn't matter in the moment. I woke up my kids for school and made myself a morning caffienated beverage. I began work at 6:15, but paused several times over the next 45 minutes to make sure the kids were actually awake and leaving for school. 

At 7, I brought 5 loads of laundry downstairs and sighed. Over the next 5 hours, I switched clothes from the washer to the dryer... and then the dryer to the fold-zone. I folded and sorted it all, carrying it back upstairs. All of this while I analyzed data, attended meetings, responded to emails, and worked to solve the many data-related mysteries of Healthcare. 

Somewhere along the way this morning, I fielded texts from one kid, assured another that there was food to eat here, and wished yet another good luck on her interview .... all while working my paying job and attending to laundry. 

By 3pm, I was spent. My head was pounding, my hip and back ached, and I spent a fair amount of time questioning my worth, my ability to parent, and whether or not an emotional breakdown was really feasible amidst my schedule this week. 

At 5, I realized I needed to rally. Why? Because I needed to accompany a kid to an orientation for the next school year,  remain positive, and absorb the information given to me during said orientation. 

By the time I got home, it was 7:30. There was a line of laundry baskets in the hallway needing to be ran. If I didn't attend to it ... all 3 would 100% still be there in that spot in the morning. So I got to work on that pile while thankfully munching on dinner prepared by my husband.

At 10pm, we came up to bed, knowing there was still 20 minutes left on the washer cycle. And yet, the laundry I had washed/dried/ folded/sorted earlier still sat in baskets, not yet put away. 

I get it - who wants to deal with laundry that late at night.  But if not then, when?  It won't take care of itself.  Sigh.  

At 10:30, I went down to let the dogs out again, because I never wake up when they need to go out during the night and thought it would be a nice gesture to take care of this chore.

With 8 minutes to go on the washer, I found myself sitting on the floor of the half-bath, waiting for the washer to finished its cycle. I felt like I needed a good cry, but no tears came.