I was complaining yesterday about never having any uninterrupted time, and so today I am awake at five-thirty, on my own, fully awake. I think I would rather still be asleep, but at least now the desk will be cleaner. And I have a few minutes to work on the meal schedule, which I am going to re-institute because I am starting to hate making dinner with fiery passion. I also am starting to hate deciding what to have for dinner, and, actually, eating. Because I am seriously working against acedia, and the need to care for my physical body. And so, on Monday we'll have hash browns, and Thomas can complain. On Tuesday frozen pizza or other junk, while Geoff is at the dojo. On Wednesday it will be soup and homemade bread, so that the children can complain about the bread.On Thursday stirfry/curry/rice bowls, and on Friday pasta. Saturday can be something special, possibly for guests, and Sunday can be chili or tacos.
There. I did it.
And now it's time to make tea before cruelly dragging Nat out of bed because he really honestly asked me to get him up at seven every morning, even on Sundays. And I will remind him of it when he complains.