Write four lines of prose about: cracking.
Today did not go at all as I'd planned or expected.
I got a call shortly before 9 this morning asking if I could do a 12 to 9 shift at the community centre today. Not really in a position to turn that down, despite the chaos that followed.
Kat had a client from 10:30 to 11:30, so I took the boys up to her parents place. But we were totally out of firewood at home, so I had to leave them with Kat's mom while I went to chop and haul wood. Then I went back to retrieve Miles (because Max, of course, wanted to stay longer), bring him home, have a shower, and leave for work.
On my 'dinner' break at 3:30 I got groceries and came home to watch the boys while Kat snuck in a shower. Then I went back to work until 8:50 (hurray for danged cold temperatures and a freezing wind sending people home early).
And then I went up to check on our friend's house on the mountain, as they've gone to Vancouver for a few days and asked me to check in on their place while they're gone. I was going to go up this afternoon but... then work called.
And tomorrow I'm at the bakery starting at 8. So... yeah, best get some sleep soon, huh?
He says he's not bothered, he's doing just fine, but I can see him beginning to wilt under the pressure. It's so relentless, so impassive, how could he not be showing signs of its influence?
I don't think he'll last much longer, no matter how brave a face he puts on for the outside world. Which is just fine by me - I'm more than ready to sop up the secrets he'll be leaking.