There are so many things I need to do today.
Laundry- Groceries
Target- Gym
- Cleaning the bathroom (seriously, that one is my nemesis and never goes away)
Unload the dishwasher- Make calls about selling Krispy Kreme donuts as a fundraiser
But I am tired. Yesterday's 8 miles kicked my butt. My entire body hurts. Maybe I'll do what has become a Sunday pattern (which is why nothing is ever getting done) and stay in my pajamas all day while I watch television and nap off and on.
There is a little brown dog sitting behind me staring a hole in my shoulder. I suppose that means I need to get dressed and take her for a walk.
How come dogs never realize the significance of the weekend? Long ago were the days of sleeping in and vegging out on Sunday. Now I just consider those my full-time dog assistant days.
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