Lord, Help Me, It's Monday

Dear Lord God Almighty,

I humbly beseech you for help, it's Monday and I can't drag my sorry butt into this week. I don't have time to be tired or lazy or sick, I have a blog to post and a turbo-tot to chase and a house to reconstruct after a family weekend.

You know, God, the weekend where hubby and I ran around like lunatics all day Saturday getting things done and making the home-front all sparkly-shiny. Then, on Sunday, my body said, "Screw you Aria, I'm sick and I'm sleeping and there's nothing you can do about it!" which, it turns out, is man-code for: eat like you're never going to get salsa again, and make as big a mess as you can without making too much noise, cause that'll set off the mama-alarms and you'll have to deal with sick-mama (who is as far from happy-mama as it gets) and it will completely ruin your day. But then be a total dumb-ass and turn up the TV so loud that it wakes the snarling-sick-mama-beast and she ruins your day anyway... just when you were about to coast through moderately unscathed. Fucking-Duh.

So God, I ask you for your help because every inch of my body hurts. My hair hurts. My eyelashes need Tylenol. I have aches in places that should not hurt without strenuous exercise, and by strenuous, I don't mean walking to the kitchen upright. I am also full-body tired. My left arm wants a nap. My right butt-cheek is already asleep. And my brain is obviously turned off, cause this post is making very little sense whatsoever.

And God, I also have housework to do. I have to clean the toilet and bathroom sink and fold the laundry that never made it's way out of the dryer Saturday evening. I have to wash the dishes because what started yesterday morning as two cups from the night before, has turned into several plates, bowls and a couple more cups. If I don't do it today, I'll have too much to fit into the drain board. And you know I hate that. The living room is a total cluster-fuck and it's making me claustrophobic. I'm having trouble making it to the couch so I can die in front of the only TV with antenna reception (now, that hubby completed his 'must do this weekend without any planning at all' project. Thanks so very much, hubby.) Also the garbage is overflowing again cause by Texas state law, only women are allowed to take out garbage. I didn't realize it was official, but apparently that law was passed right after Ann Richards left office.

And then, God, there's my munchkin. My adorable gift, from You. The gift you gave me with unfailing batteries and an unquenchable desire for knowledge. The gift that has no off button and only two speeds; sleeping and running. My gift that is all boy, and loves to throw and headbutt ~ EVERYTHING. That's the only way I can put it cause to list everything that he's thrown and headbutted, would take so long, I'd need a lunch break... as it is, I need body armor.

So, in short, Lord, please help me, because it's Monday... or please help me to not give a damn enough to crawl back into bed and play dead really well for several hours. Thank you.

In Jesus' name,
Amen