I knew I was pooped, but didn't know just how pooped I was.
Yesterday morning, we bid my brother and SIL a safe drive home to Victoria, BC. We packed up their car and then went to a diner downtown. This was one of their favorite weekend breakfast eateries when they lived here. We all ate our eggs, and fried meats with some very tasty potatoes (well SIL had cottage cheese instead of potatoes). We parted ways infront of the diner, and I'm sure we were all fighting the carb comma that was creeping up on us.
Eric and I drove home, reminiscing about what a great visit that was, and how sad it was that I had to work almost the whole time they were here. Once we got home, we raced to the bedroom. No No... nothing like that.. we were giving in to the need to nap after a big breakfast. We slept until 2:30ish, then both woke up, chatted for a while and then evidentially decided we were too tired to start the day yet, because the next thing I knew it was 5pm.
The evening went by quickly. We wanted to try to reset our inner clocks to return to going to bed by 9pm, and up at 5:30am. We watched a little TV, went for a walk, ate a snack (that breakfast was long lasting), then we limited ourselves to 3 rounds of a snowboarding video game, and then up to bed we went. I was excited to have time to read, but I don't think I got through a single article of my cooking magazine, as I faintly recall Eric removing my glasses and covering me with a blanket.
This morning, the alarm went off at 6am (I knew I still couldn't return to 5:30am just yet). Eric got up, went for his daily morning walk, and I just laid there. Not believing it was already Monday morning. I'm still tired. Very tired. I think this week will be full of working, and sleeping. I don't have the energy for anything else. I guess I'll start training for that 1/2 marathon next week.