At least my title rhymes.
Like an old dish towel that has just finished scrubbing a grease caked set of pots and pans, I am wrung. It has been a rough, physically and emotionally demanding week on all fronts: professional, familial and marital. On Thursday I declared to a friend that I was ready to retreat from the world to an underground bunker like Dick Cheney after 9/11. I am exhausted by routine, people and their moods and demands, herding cats and the energy it took to assemble the courage to do things that are outside my comfort zone. But I got up every day, I did my part and I fought the good fight.
I don't want to analyze today. I want to ride my bike, drink a glass of wine and tune out.
The Monday-Friday part of my life ended up much better last evening than I had a right to expect when the period began. For that I am grateful. Sometimes just getting there is all there is.
So I'll shut up and rest now.
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