I started a post about powerlifting earlier today but I am too tired to finish it, oh butter irony*. Tuesdays are usually my most exhausting days of the week, and this one did not disappoint.

On a typical Tuesday, I’m up at 5:30 and out the door by 7:00, teaching classes from 8:00-2:00, in office hours/meetings after that, and then I hit the gym or track. By this time I’ve already walked about two miles on campus in dress shoes that make my feet angry so I’m feeling grimly determined to get the run done nevertheless. Today it was a track workout on tap. I somehow messed up the stats that display on my watch, the end result being that I ran my intervals significantly faster than needed, felt bad about myself because the workout seemed too hard, and almost barfed at the end. My stomach still feels pretty iffy, to be frank.

By the time I get the kids from daycare on Tuesdays, get home, do dinner/bath/bedtime, and so on, I generally start to feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Then, the 30-60 minutes after bedtime when the kids insist on coming back out of their room for Very Important Kid Reasons, but during which I’m also trying to shut down the house by completing my final chores before bedtime, is the most difficult hour of the day. I’m crouching in the bathroom holding a geriatric/paraplegic dachshund over the toilet so I can express his bladder, for example, and suddenly there is a child climbing on my back and shouting in my ear about how they just needed to get back out of bed to see what Egon was doing. And as soon as I get all that taken care of and go to lie down for a minute I’m confronted with a pile of laundry I forgot about or with the ping of my daily phone reminder telling me to set up the coffee pot for tomorrow or or or.

(Because someone will wonder: yes, CW is involved in all this work, too. But this is my blog so it’s gonna be all about me, dammit.)

Current status: lying in bed, sweaty and stinky but wearing fresh lounge clothing, next to the aforementioned dog (curled up under my blanket), contemplating getting up to find my roller so I can work on my calves before I fall asleep. It’s 7:56 pm, y’all.

*autocorrect, obviously, but I’ll let it stand.