Yesterday I worked my customary 8 hours (plus 1 hour for lunch and 1 hour for commute. After I got home, I made dinner for my husband, baked seven (7) loaves of bread, cooked two (2) corned beef briskets for Saturday's St. Patrick's Day pot luck and put out the trash for Friday morning pickup.

I was so tired I had trouble falling asleep.

Then, at 2 a.m., the dog decided that she just *had* to go outside, no can wait until 5 a.m., which is the time I usually get up. I stumbled downstairs to let her out. My eyes were open, but I wouldn't dignify my state of mind by calling it "conscious".

And today is another day, a busy one at work. Onward into the fog....


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