All I Wanted Was a Second Cup of Coffee

I was all set to indulge in that second cup as soon as Cubby went back to sleep . . .

But first I had to start the water boiling for oatmeal so we could have something for breakfast.

And then I had to sort laundry and put A.'s nasty jeans in the washing machine to soak.

And then I had to put the oatmeal in the now-boiling water and stir it around for five minutes.

And then I had to drain and spin the soaking jeans and start the whole load.

And then I had to move all the chairs and garbage can and rugs back into the kitchen because the floor the MiL mopped last night was now dry.

And then I had to eat my oatmeal before I passed out.

And then the fire was being a bitch so I had to fuss (and cuss) around with newspaper and cardboard and matches.

And then I put the last piece of wood on the now-burning fire so I had to move the empty log holder to sweep up the mess the wood leaves.

And then A. needed me to hold the funnel so he could put gas in his truck before he went to pick up some more hay.

And then I had to bring in more wood.

And then the fire was STILL being a bitch, so more blowing and smoke and cussing.

And then it was time to put the first load of laundry in the dryer and the second load in the washer.

And then, FINALLY, AN HOUR LATER, I got my second cup of coffee. By which point I REALLY needed it. Damn.