It is Sunday evening and I am already sweating what I didn't get done this weekend. I was busy from dusk 'til dawn for the entire weekend.
I spent time with my husband and baby, played with my forsaken lil' pup, cleaned my stove, watch my nephew's soccer game, prepared Monday lunches for the entire family, visited with relatives from out of town, emailed Pumpkin Carving Party invitations, cut the cutest little pattern pieces for my son's Halloween costume, washed and folded laundry (it is important to clarify that I also folded laundry because washing laundry is easy, getting it folded is another story!) purged my closet. Well, at least hid stuff in a bag that I will later pull out and be amazed at what I was going to throw away.
So you see, I was very busy. Why do I feel so blue about what I accomplished?
Shouldn't I have a "peaceful, easy feeling?"
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