My schedule for today was supposed to look like this:

Instead, I got up at 6:00a.m., packed Laura’s stuff in the MVoD, told her to drive carefully, and went back to bed started doing housework.

I know, I know. Not on the schedule. Way not on the schedule! Instead of my head hitting the pillow like Balboa’s fist against a side of beef, I vacuumed! I changed the sheets and made the bed! I cleaned up the dining room table! I filled the ice trays, straightened up the entertainment closet, brought dirty clothes down to the laundry room, fed the cats, took a shower, shaved, and emptied the trash cans!

What the hell is wrong with me?

It’s twenty after one. I should be rolling out of a puddle of my own drool right now, not running downstairs to empty the dishwasher!

Y’know what makes it worse? Laura didn’t leave me a “Honey Do” List. That’s right, I have absolutely no obligations outside of keeping myself and the cats alive until Sunday afternoon. Not a damn one.

I vacuumed this morning!

I make myself sick.