We just had a weekend. At least I think we did.
My weekend was so action packed that I can't even remember what I did. All I know is that every time I came home from doing something it was time to turn around and go and do something else.
Now it's Monday and I missed my weekend. I didn't get any down time.
I didn't get enough sleep.
My hubby keeps telling me I can sleep when I'm dead.
You know what I think though?
I think all this running around is rushing me to an early grave.
We can't both be right, can we?