Weary

This is my word for the week.

I am weary.

I walk slowly, I think slowly, I work slowly, I respond slowly. I have almost hit the wall, I think. I am behind on several projects, and so completely unable to get myself engaged. This is very unlike me.

Now, do not confuse weariness with laziness. I am *plenty* lazy, all the time. I am a lazy, lazy girl. Oh, how I love to nap and procrastinate and lie on my sofa reading People magazine and drinking tea. But I can turn that laziness on and off at a moment's notice. I can be lolling on the couch, and someone will call and invite me out - and the car will be packed and the kids buckled in 5 minutes later.

This week, I can't even answer the phone.

Today we went to Walmart and Costco. I walked, slowly, through these retail behomoths. The black hole of items made in China, or Kirkland, Washington, apparently. (Is that the next production capitol of the world ?) By the time Sami checked us out of Costco, I wanted to climb in the cart and put my head in Lucy's lap. We came home, I slept, then sat, then stood up to make dinner. Which I made sitting down because I was so, incredibly, mind-numbingly fucking WEARY.

Two more days. Two. Days. Longer.

But between now and then, I have tomorrow, stretching out endlessly before me. And I just cannot imagine doing anything except lying on the sofa and whimpering. I think I may just invite all my girlfriends to come over and grab a couch cushion, and lie next to me drinking tea and complaining about vog and politics and prices. But before I can do that, I seriously have some work to get done. I have a client's quote to work on, and a column to finish, and some other chores to do around here. I wonder if I can do them while I lie down. Maybe with my strangely dexterious toes.

I definitely will not be wearing any pants. It's a long story, but I can guarantee you that. So if you are coming over to loll on my couch, for god's sake. call first.