As we approach the birth of my granddaughter, the whole household seems to be holding its breath in an odd sort of way. The atmosphere is heavy as we wait.
I have an inch to go on the last baby sweater, which I should be able to knock out in no time, but I don't even feel like picking it up. Perhaps tomorrow morning, before work.
Yes, work. Maybe that's my problem. It's Friday night, but it's not Friday night, because I have to get up at four, like any other day of the week. This weekend, I do not own my weekend. Five hours belong to my employer.
What I really need more than anything is some quality "alone time" in this house. I tried to record a couple of songs last night, but dogs barked, kids galumphed loudly up and down the hallways, telemarketers intruded, the grocery guy arrived...you get the picture. Too many noisy interruptions! I haven't even listened to the recordings yet. I'm afraid to. It was such an unproductive session, I doubt anything is salvageable. I'll face it sometime tomorrow and see what happens.
Right now, I just feel an overwhelmingly pervasive sense of "blue." Perhaps "bedways is rightways," and things will look brighter in the morning.