Doctor Lazybones. . .

Twenty-six minutes until it's time to go home.

I'm not usually a clock watcher. But this week, and particularly today, I have watched the clock. I'm ready for a weekend. I get three-day weekends. They're not enough. Call me a crybaby. But I get no evenings the four days of the week I'm at work. I get home just after 7 p.m. We eat dinner. We read our scriptures and get the kids put to bed. By that time, I've been awake for 14 hours. I know it's time to go to bed. I'd like to stay up longer, but I'm shattered.

Of course I have work. I have Uncharted. I have two classes a semester I'm taking for my masters degree. All of that takes up time. I don't know what I'll do tonight. I could stay up late. Whee. Or I could go to bed. And lest you think I'm being a wimp, I also do the dishes, gather the trash, clean up after the kids and help with the laundry when it's something simple that I can't screw up.

I'm tired. But now it's only twenty-two minutes until it's time to go home.