Tired. Oh, so tired.

It's been exhausting lately. Much more exhausting than it should be at least. I've been working a lot as of late and then I come home to juggle my new responsibilities as "parent who can move around." Don't get wrong, Vickie isn't comatose or anything, so she still carries out a vital role giving the moral and administrative support that I need. Also, this only happens for a week or so before she starts recovering. It's when she begins feeling well and she can move around and do more when we know its time for her to go back in for another round of magic stuff. 

But back to me for a second. (Narcissist, isn't it?) Usually during the summer we are busy at work. It's the time when the school district let's have the summer break to fix or upgrade the schools in the area. It's good work but the only drawback is we only get the summer to begin and finish, sometimes, very involved projects. This year is no different, except this year they had more than 75 different projects. Almost three times as much than the previous years and some of the work is on big projects. We have a good number of projects this year alongside a fast track elementary school we have been trying to finish in 8 months. You know, before the new school year starts in 2 weeks. We are almost finished but it does mean that I've been pulling down 55+ hours a week for the last month. A labor intensive week for that long can demoralize and exhaust a man quick. That's exactly what has happened to me. 

Usually you get breaks during the day. I don't really have that. Being ahead of the work for our contractor, I'm usually bombarded with questions so much that to make up for lost time I need to work my way through. Most guys break hard during lunch anyway, lounge around slowly eating, that sort of thing. Well, again, I don't. My work has been close to home. As in, a block from home, so I go home for lunch. I do this for a couple of reasons. 1 to save money. 2 to see my family. And 3 to feed my family. If I don't come home for lunch each day it's not a totally sure they will eat. That includes my wife. So I go home, make lunch for Vickie, Bella and Liam and if I have time, get myself something. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn't. It usually does though. 

But wait. Didn't I tell you how tired I've been lately? Yes, sleep. Our old friend. Our good ol' buddy. He can give you the kiss of life in one second or turn around and knee you in the balls the next. He's been kneeing my fleshy klackers a lot lately and it's been in such dire straits that I found myself setting a timer on my phone for ten minutes and sleeping on the laundry room floor for the last ten minutes of my lunch break after making sure my family was fed. It wasn't so bad. There was a dirty pillow I could use and it was pretty cold in there. Awesome. Now that I write that down it seems much more pathetic than when it happened. When it happened it felt great. Until I had to wake up. Then it turned into a fight to the death to keep my eyes open. I desperately wanted to find the contraption from 'A Clockwork Orange' to get through the next 5 hours. 

When I get home it's pretty much the same. Drag my carcass up the stairs, shower and find the sheer will power to do dishes, see if Vickie needs anything, make dinner, do more dishes, see if Vickie needs anything, perhaps some laundry, play with the kids, see if Vickie needs anything, read them a story, put them to bed, see if Vickie needs anything and then go to bed. 

But it's all worth it. The checks have been pretty good, my family is being taken care of and my work is flourishing. In a couple of weeks it won't be incredibly insane and hopefully I will go back to 8 hour days and sob at my paycheck again. Until then however, I will sit here having to constantly backspace, re-type every other sentence and re-read everything three times so I don't sound like I have a severe learning disability. (Well that I do have)