Mojo

Like Austin Powers, I've lost my mojo.  This time, though, it doesn't just seem to be my bloggy mojo. 

I have four minutes to write this, so I don't think I can get in-depth completely.  But I guess I just needed to get *something* out there.

I'm feeling pretty down.  I don't know if it's the weather, the sickness that've encompassed our house for the last month, or a combination of that and other things.  I don't know how to fix it and I don't know if there's anything, really, to fix.  It's a never-ending circle of:

- I go to work
- I miss my kid
- When I get home with my kid, I'm exhausted and don't spend quality time with her
- She goes to bed
- I'm still exhausted and do nothing the rest of the night (The Hubby doesn't, either, which reduces my motivation even more)
- I miss my kid and feel awful that I didn't make the most of the little time we get together
- I go to bed
- I start the cycle all over again.

I get upset at little things.  I cry at the drop of a hat.  I don't feel like I'm enjoying my little girl when I actually have the time to do so because I just want to take some "me time", even though I know I'll get my "me time" once she's in bed. 

I get depressed at the state of our house, but don't have the energy to do anything about it.  Honestly, I feel like we're living in filth and I think it's mostly because we have mice.  Not one mouse....mice.  And I feel gross.  We find mouse poop in bizarre places (who knew mice could climb to the top of a 6-foot shelving unit????).  The Hubby removed two bodies from the house the other night, but we think there are more.  We have mouse poison in our basement and in the garage, which means we can't take Baby Girl to either place.  *I* don't want to go to either place to do laundry or clean because I don't want to come across another one (I was the one that discovered the first one when it scampered across the laundry room floor while Baby Girl and I were looking for clothes for her).  This means we have no clean clothes.  I might be wearing a puke-covered shirt.  What's worse is that I don't actually know if I am.  All I know is that there's something flaky on the entire left shoulder that I just discovered at 3:00.  And I got the shirt from my bedroom....what I thought were clean clothes.

It's a mess.  We're a mess.  And I'm so overwhelmed by it all that I just want to climb into bed and cry.

I'm not going back and editing and I'm just hitting Publish.  Not looking for pity....just needed to get something--ANYTHING--out there.  Because even this is better than silence.