A Good Week

I have decided to have a good week. A "good week" is defined as a week where I actually plan to be productive, go to bed at a decent time, and get up wicked early to do something before work. THAT, my friend, is a good week.

So far so good: I went to bed at 9:30pm, woke up before my 5am alarm, had breakfast while I watched a fast-forwarded ACMs (Taylor Swift didn’t win, but we still love her anyway), then showered and was "ready for work" at 6am. Then proceeded to spend the next hour folding laundry and watching the Celebrity Apprentice. I love that show, so sue me.

Now I’m on my way to work (7:30am), and I’ve already been up for 2.5hrs. Today I’ll catch up with work email and tasks (it’s been rolling over me lately), and go to the gym with the husband afterwards.

In all truthfulness, though, I feel like I’m suspended in time. Like my real life will not begin until I’m done with MBA classes in August. My mother said that if I’ve done this for 3 years, I should be able to handle 3 more months. Why does it feel like these months are crawling by?

ina