The sound you make when you hit the wall.
I'm trying not to wear myself out. Trying really hard. It's just there are a lot of moving parts and I seem to be getting less sleep even though I'm lying down obediently at bedtime and getting up... ok, last couple of mornings I was already awake before my alarms went off.
S'ok. The husband and the kid are helping. They went out and cleaned up my car, so it's good for the weekend trip. My son has been doing all the driving for errands (that's so relaxing, you know?) which also counts for his required time driving on his learner's permit. We have a wall-o-boxes in the living room and most of that wasn't me hucking them around to put them in place. The Little Man has worked out his notice at his job and there won't be any more commuting him, although that was falling on the First Reader far more than I.
We took a little down time today. The Little Man took me out to eat, because we'll spend a few weeks barely seeing one another, and because he's very proud of having money in his bank account he earned and he wanted to do something for me. Which was sweet of him, but we did the Chinese buffet and I've been in a food coma state ever since then.
Last night I wrote 2200 words for the prompt response. I've been doing my weekday space art. I'm training hard for the new job. I'm still providing support for the old one. I'm a little overtaxed and while I know it's temporary? I'm contemplating a very, very early bedtime tonight.
Tomorrow will be work, work again, and packing the vehicle. Friday will be work, drive up North, and then walk through the house for the last time before it becomes home.
The Little Man, earlier, picking out what pots and pans he wanted to take up there for the first few days, stopped in his tracks and looked up, his eyes misty and a smile on his face. "Home. I'm going home."
Yeah, kid. You are.