Monday, Monday, can't trust that day

I'm actually glad to be at work today. This weekend was one of those where you plan some fairly taxing project (like cleaning out a closet) and it gradually evolves into a monster project (like organizing all the drawers and dresser tops). When you're done, it doesn't look like you've touched a thing, because it's all hidden inside dressers and closets, but you feel like you've run a marathon. I was on a ladder part of the time (top shelf) and the arch of my foot feels like it's been folded, spindled, and stapled. Sitting here at work now I have my shoes off (such a lovely indulgence) and if I have to get up, it will be in stocking feet, until it's time to go home. I even brought my lunch, so I won't have to walk to the cafeteria. I need a weekend to recover from my weekends. One side benefit is the things you find that you didn't know were there. I found a $20 bill in an old purse, and a brand new tote bag from Alaska from last year's vacation, as well as an Alaska stocking hat (now that it's March and too warm to wear it). I found the charger for my cell phone (no having to use hubby's) and all sorts of little odds and ends that had tried to escape the house unnoticed. I firmly believe that inanimate objects possess personality, which is why you should never make disparaging remarks or talk of trade-ins when you are in the car. I talk to my car, so it will know it's appreciated, and as a result, in 34 years of driving, I have never had a car breakdown while I am at the wheel, or even had a flat tire. Kismet, I'm sure.

My son worked his first days on the job at Target this weekend, so he is now officially employed. He's complaining about his feet too. Yesterday he wore gel inserts in his shoes, it seems to help. I know I couldn't do a job where I had to be on my feet all day long, my back would pack it in after about an hour.