Humbug

This has nothing to do with anything.

I've got a seriously bad case of the Mondays. I don't want to work, don't want to do anything. And I've been feeling kind of testy lately--yes, I know I'm always testy, but I've been testier than usual.

I'm burned out on work, which I suppose is to be expected after seven years of serving chronically mentally ill people. I'm just tired. Maybe I need a vacation. A real vacation--not one of those vacations where I spend a week at home and catch up on housework and whatnot.

Housework. That's another problem. I don't mind cleaning. I take a lot of pride in displaying a clean home (although #4 always seems to come over on days when I'm re-arranging furniture or haven't mopped in three days), but the work that goes into maintaining a clean home is a pain in the you-know-what. And is it too much to ask to hear a little "Thanks" every now and then from the hubby? I don't mean a round of applause when I wet-swiffer the floor and throw a cheese pizza in the oven for dinner. But when I do five loads of laundry...and mop ALL the hard surface flooring...and clean all the bathrooms...and dust...and clean all the windows...and still turn out a yummy dinner...is it too much to want to hear "Thanks"? I don't think so.

Maybe I'm just in a rotten mood and I'll feel better tomorrow. Or maybe I really am annoyed. I don't even know.

Hey...did you know that in a recent survey (maybe by Good Housekeeping? I forget...) there was a quote from a doctor who said that if women are given the choice between a solid night's sleep or earth-shaking sex, they'll choose sleep--because we're all too darn tired to have sex. Interesting. And correct.