poor poor pitiful me

First of all, can I just admit that I'm so proud of myself for getting halfway through the month with NaBloPoMo? I'm just, well, yay me, I guess.

Second, I'd just like to complain a little bit, if that's ok. I know it is going to elicit, to some extent, the following response: "Oh waahh!" But I'd just like to say that although it is my fault as much as any one else's, I'm really tired of not being home at all. Last night I kind of had a little meltdown (evidence of which was seen in yesterday's post), all because we had about an hour or two tops this whole week to actually get anything done. We get up at 5:30 and I don't get home until 5:45. This week we've had Bump weekly dinner on Tuesday, a tea class on Wednesday (so interesting--I'll have to post about it at some point), and yesterday we went to the library (with a walk and a bus route change involved) to pick up a book, and so we've been limited for time this week. Last weekend we were gone from Thursday through Monday. The weekend before that we were up in Loveland. The weekend before that were were home, but in the throes of the pumpkin carving party. Going back from there, we've been home maybe one other weekend since August. I love our life, I know we're very fortunate to be able to have a home in the mountains, have money and time to take vacations, have friends and family who want us to stay with them. But I'm so tired. I'm fantasizing about being able to sleep in my bed and wake up after the sun rises, without the alarm prodding me. I fantasize about getting the platform made for the bed we're hoping to buy (a bigger one, with more room for Rumplestiltsroo to wander), so that we can actually sleep in our bedroom for the first time since oh, June? It's a long story and I'll have to share it some time, but I'm mid-whine, so it'll have to be later.

Last night I finally got the tubs of winter clothes off the shelves in the garage, after about a month of meaning to, but getting them down involved pulling the car out of the garage, and I only remembered every time I had just parked it. We bought new dining room chairs and two of them are still in the living room. We bought chair pads, too, but we can't decide if we like them (we've only sat on them a couple of times) and so they're mostly still in bags. We have artwork we haven't hung. I have a bags from two separate trips still lying half unpacked in our bedroom (the one without a bed). I have laundry to do, laundry to fold, and now winter and summer clothes to swap out. I really need to exercise since this trip to California (donuts for a snack, among other things), but I haven't had time to unearth the treadmill from its status as a shit collector. I can't remember the last time we mopped the floors. I know people who already have their Christmas shopping done, but I'm so far behind that it makes me a little sick to my stomach to think about it. I have to stop now, this list could be a lot longer, but thinking about all of it is freaking me out.

I'm just so tired and overwhelmed. It all seems so much and all I want to do is take a bath. I just feel like nothing is finished, nothing ever will be, and I don't even know where to start. I told Mr. Bump that I needed at least three weekends in a row at home in order to catch up. Maybe after Thanksgiving...