Four

There are days, and this is one of them, when really there is nothing left of me by the time I finally come home. I left at 7:30am and I got home at nearly 10pm. Driving and work and driving. And more. D is sick but all I know is that he was home again (as he should be), but he has been on a video game since I dropped S. off at nine - three hours ago. And who knows, or cares, how many hours he was on it before that. Dishes undone, laundry undone, I am responsible for dinner and driving the kids home at night after working a 10 hour day. But he has been staring at a screen for hour after hour. I love him. I understand he is sick. But yes, I am bitter. Thanks for listening.