Saturday

Dogs woke me up, they need everything. Then my book; Orwell's Animal Farm, coffee, true crime TV. Smoke break, then breakfast. Unhealthy, but homemade. Pick up the house. Bread going bad - croutons getting baked. Eclectic playlist on blast. Death metal to Disney. Sweeping the floors. Attempt to catch up on laundry. Fixing his lunch; something simple, something frozen. But it's something he wanted. Not something I'd chosen. Smoke break, let dogs out. Snowing again, so damn cold. A smidge of self-care. A shower. Stare - my face getting old... ...smoke break... Now dinner. The dogs first, then us. On the couch with a movie, the boys snuggle up. Saturday at home I'll skip all the bad. The disgusted looks, the parts where I'm sad. Fortunate enough to slide into bed. Process my day, inventory my head. The productive, the creative, the damages - healing. Drifting to sleep, just exhausted from feeling.