Well, well, here it is the end of week two. The first week of my recovery, as you may recall was blissful. The second week? Lets just say the first week has a level that is historic in my book.
This week I have a multitude of laundry scattered and stacked all over the place, although clean I may add. My husband does not seem to highly value the efficiency of putting the clothes away. My children's rooms are a complete disaster, & my dog is running a muck. My Hubby still gives me kisses, but my pillows have gone flat. My son still brews my coffee alongside my daughter who preps my breakfast. However, the hour that I have to wait for it, makes eating the cold meal less than desirable. I continue to eat my favorite snacks for comfort, which leads me fearful wondering if my designer jeans will fit later on.
Sigh! One more week to go. Will I make it? And if I do, will all my rest be in vain because of the exhausting work I may have to do to get my house back in order?
Any suggestions? Better yet...any volunteers?