Tropicality

Nighttime was short and interrupted, thanks to Son#3.

It's scary to wake up from a melatonin-induced coma to a Chucky-like figure - replete with curls - standing next to your bed, staring at you in the dark.

I didn't sleep much after midnight.

 

 

The husband remains pale and tired. 

He's going back to the doctor this afternoon.

I still have a fever.

It's a nasty virus this year.
 

The boys have a day off from school.

I sent them to the one and only shop in our village to buy bread and sweets, and it's not even 10 o'clock yet.

I'm going to try doing a wee bit of work, but mostly look at my new courses that I enrolled for at 3 a.m.

 

 

What is this insatiable need of mine to fill each and every second with productivity?

A year alone on an island would do me a world of good.

Just to learn how to enjoy quietude again.
To have nothing to do.

Many things I pile on myself (like the studying), but most are not self-imposed.
Most things are necessary actions that someone needs to do.
I just wish someone else would do these things once in a while.

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