Some days you’re just totally, completely tapped out. Today is one of them.

First, Mike’s been sick, so all of the early shifts this week have gone to yours truly. This does not make for a functional person. Second, today was my “work day” at MJ’s co-op. Such days–on which you are basically responsible for the well-being of some 25 kids, 2 chickens, one turtle, and several miniature toilets–are beyond exhausting. By the end of them you feel like you’ve been hit over the head with a merciless, sand-filled sock puppet.

The coupe de grace? Myra-Jean has stopped napping. I think it’s official now. This is the deepest cut of all, really. Ask any full-time stay-at-home parent what truly keeps them sane and, unless they shout “quaaludes!” they’ll immediately declare it’s naptime.

When that goes? Oh, the grief.

Anyway. You know it’s bad when you end up in a pointless battle with your kid that culminates in your yelling “can’t I just have one second for myself?” and her screaming back, with tears running over her grape-juice-stained cheeks: “NO! I want you every second! Waaaaaaaah!!!!”

In sum, I’ve got nothing left. I’m a shell. A jewel case with no CD. A skin with no snake.

Except that I did notice the garden is looking nice. Thank God for ice plants. They may be cheap, they may be invasive, they may be lowbrow, but at least they don’t require any maintenance to survive.

Right now that makes them the prettiest plants in all of the world.