The Post in Which I Whine

I'm exhausted tonight. I don't want to go buy the groceries. It's been a couple of weeks now since I had to wait until the middle of the night to coax myself out there to get the food. I have to psyche myself into it. Tonight, this is a job for The Boots. Sometimes I wear them when I feel like I am taking on a major task (but it's only shopping!). I couldn't even suck some energy out of the glee the children brought home from the baseball field. I can only appreciate it intellectually this time. I guess I should have watched the game on television? Maybe then it would have been more energizing to hear their in-person account. We won! We got fifty-cent hotdogs. We met Pat Burrell and B.J. Upton! All very fabulous things. Perhaps I can better enjoy them later. Maybe for now I should just be glad that my husband doesn't mind being married to a woman who burps out loud and wears men's boots. Boots, your chariot awaits. Kindly go bring the groceries. Thank you.