I went to church today to help Joey with a cleaning project he’d asked me to do.  It took…a really long time.  My ankles had swollen and my feet were all bruised by the time I was done, so I was walking everywhere super slowly.  Had I been thinking, I’d have just walked regular speed.  (It would have been more work but I would have had it over with sooner.)

I came home at 4:00 and was supposed to take a shower, but I got sidetracked by having a snack (nutrients to rebuild my morale) and then started reading Cooks Illustrated.  Thus, I still haven’t taken a shower.  My right arm has hot chocolate on it and so does the baby.

Actually, she’s covered in hot chocolate.  I think she likes it.

My agenda for today was completely altered, I had planned to go to the grocery store as, once again, we’re out of just about everything except flour.  And I’m going to use that later to make a Foccacia biga so I can bake some tomorrow.  I just threw dinner in the oven (not sure what it is, I just thought “let’s put something in the oven so I don’t have to think about it” and then suddenly I had concocted some potato dish and some chicken thing, and they are now in the oven.  WHO KNOWS IF THEY WILL BE GOOD, I’m not really sure what I did to make them.)

I was just wandering back from the bedroom when I encountered Joey, who was coming out of the kitchen.  ”Tomorow I will wash the sheets and change them, and get us groceries,” I said.

“And you will mostly relax,” Joey said.  ”You did too much work today.”

“I didn’t do SO much work,” I said, rolling my eyes at him just a little.  ”I just did SOME work.  I can do work.”

“It was too much work,” he said.

If he thinks cleaning all day was “too much work”…I shudder to think what he will have to say about labor.