I'm in a bad place. Woke up exhausted this morning, literally unable to move. At 6:27, I rolled over and asked Miss Chef, "Do you still want to go to the market?" (I had turned out the light last night at 9:30 and have no idea when she got in). Her response: "uh-uh."
So, we didn't get up 'til after 8, and while we did make it to the Big farmers' market (and my report will follow...eventually), I'm dragging. No, not dragging. Stumbling.
Literally. I checked out the garden this morning when I let Rosie out, and found myself actually staggering around after trying to pull a few weeds. I eventually staggered back to bed for a few minutes, before we pulled ourselves together.
Right now, I'm back in the office, for a 4-hour shift. Then it's home to lesson plan--this coming week is mid-terms, and I have an exam to write. Tomorrow I'll have to be at the restaurant before 10 am, clean, pressed, and on my feet for four or five hours, facing the toughest restaurant crowd of the year. Yes, the day we honor the women responsible for teaching us manners is the day the rudest, impatient, most inconsiderate people come out to eat.
I'm not complaining--I can't. Miss Chef is at work now too, and after I go home tomorrow afternoon, she'll still be there prepping for dinner service. So I'm just venting; just hoping to get it out to help me make it through the weekend. And hoping I won't be staggering again tomorrow, as I squeeze between the tables.
Happy Mothers' Day, everyone, and remember to be kind to your restaurant staff!