If I was three, I would stomp my feet, starting screaming, and launch myself onto the floor, wrapped in the throes of an awe-inspiring tantrum. Within minutes, it would be over because someone would redirect my attention and life would move on.
Instead, I have spent most of my morning, whining "I don't wanna go to work tomorrow"/ And nothing is distracting me.. My two week blessed vacation has come to an end. My sweet hubby is letting me do whatever I want today (I'm spending the day reading), my dear son is down for what I hope will be a long nap, the house is clean, and I'm ready. The football game is on, I'm wrapped in a blanket on the couch with my belly full of a delicious salad, my blog is updated and I'm ready to read.
But I still don't wanna go to work tomorrow. At. All.