Wah

I'm sitting down here to take a break from trying not to tip over. I'm sick. (Shh. Don't tell the children.) I keep doing things today, slowly, like reorganizing the pots and pans cupboard and finding the corn syrup bottle leaking, diligently, as if it should leak thoroughly or not at all. I unloaded the dishwasher, slowly, because leaning over was testing my proprioception skills, which are apparently on vacation. Those spiky things in the drawer parts of a dishwasher are kind of scary close up. I could have had one of the kids do it. They're generally a good help. But then I'd have to talk and that hurts my head. Also, they can't unload a dishwasher quietly. Can't. And I would peel my face off if there were one. more. gratuitous noise going on here. Excessive, you say? No. The slurping of liquids is notnotnot okay. Not even on the opposite end of the house with the door closed. Whispering is gooooood. Holding very still, breathing ever so softly is better. Sleeping might be best, but then I want them to sleep later, when it's dark, so no napping!

I have to go try the syrup mess again. The soaking is bound to have loosened it up, right? And the muted sound of the keys gently click-clacking under my fingers is rapidly becoming a torture akin to those found in the seventh circle of hell.

Stoopid germs.