My Friday Night: It’s a party life.

Deep damp bone ache.
Tired. Wired. Thirsty. Cold.
Dishes: done.
Son: abed.
Work: still whirring away in the back of my mind.
Son sings, not yet asleep. The sound of sock feet thumping the wall is a very particular one, which I’ll likely be able to recognize until my last breath.
Hot hard buzzing ache.
Sitting hurts, walking hurts, standing hurts.
Next: hot bath, Bailey’s-laced tea, book.
This will last a collective fifteen minutes until I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.
It’s 8:55pm on a Friday night.
Laundry hamper: overflowing.
Floor: crunchy and sticky.
Son has now been quiet for four minutes and counting. It is almost safe to start filling the tub.
Pulsing, stiff, creaking ache.
Grueling week: now over.
Grueling weekend: about to begin.


No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: