The Aftermath

The unfortunate aftermath of spending the last three days in a whirlwind of loving our family and packing our things, being flung through the air at high speeds in a pressurized metal tube for 13 hours, sleeping 2 hours, waking for 2, then sleeping another 6, is that today I have no adrenaline left with which to do life.

Thankfully, when we got back yesterday we plowed through 90% of our unpacking. That might sound impressive, but actually it means that 90% of our stuff is now on the floor instead of in bags (ok, maybe 75% - some of it did make it back into its rightful place).

And thankfully our maid went and bought some basic food for us (and left us a note that said "Welcome to Home" in English - so sweet!) so that when the kids ran down at 5 am I had something to direct them toward eating.

Ideally, I would spend today putting away all those piles and buying more food to make meals beyond toast. I'm thinking the only way that might happen is if I slam down some Red Bull and set myself a goal like "If you do this, you can eat that whole bag of candy you brought back from America when you're done." (for the record, I have never consumed a Red Bull). But that probably won't happen.

More likely is that at some point I will get up enough gumption to shower, possibly drag myself over to the blind masseuse to fix this back ache, and then by mid-afternoon I'll find it in me to put some things away in order to keep myself awake.