I’m writing today but I’m going to backdate it, that way I still feel like I have the option of writing later. The summer sickness has made it’s way to the remaining child who hadn’t been sick. When he said he’d fevered through the night and didn’t fall asleep till past 3, I had him come home to spend the morning on the couch, then later down in his bed. Maybe it is too much sometimes. They don’t understand this is what I do.

This morning I wanted to go to the gym. We pay for a Y membership that goes months without use. Thinking about it I realized I hadn’t any clothes to even wear there. No athletic shorts or any kind of athletic wear type pants. So later this morning, with the boys settled, I drove to Walmart to shop for clothes. I have not been full-fledged sick, but I also have not been feeling the greatest, and wanted to go while I still had strength.

Once I parked I realized I’d forgotten my purse. I looked around and it wasn’t there. These are the things that boggle my mind and also cause me immense frustration. It isn’t “worth” getting upset over but the at the same time I’m still upset by it, that I wasted that time with nothing to show, no return for the effort made. I was going to go back but I don’t think I am now. But I did tell my one son I’d get extra drinks.

Country Market is closer by and less draining. I’ll save the clothes for another day when I am also less tired. To be clear, I do have two pairs of the those flowy linen type pants that are nicer than pajama pants and way more comfortable than jeans. I just wouldn’t wear them out in public or to a gym. I am not saying any of this because I think it’s truly important for people to know, it is me just taking a mental inventory of the facts.

The heat has arrived just in time for summer solstice. It’s been the topic of much conversation and comment. There is a type of mourning when the heat arrives, when for months it becomes the facts of life that the dawns and the evenings will no longer be cool. Father’s Day went well. We had dessert and a meal to celebrate. I texted my own dad and we talked again a little more this morning. Life really isn’t about us.