Back to the Grind

Apparently the universe does not like a blowhard.

After posting yesterday, our lives regressed into the typical sh*tstorm they tend to be when I let go of the wheel for a while. 

Suffice it to say I attempted to take 45 minutes for myself at an inconvenient time and all hell broke loose under our roof. 

• Abby probably has her first UTI and is behaving accordingly (Use your imagination, boys.).
• Andy gave Grayson a Gu (Yep, there's caffeine in there!) to get through a night time baseball game without massive migraine blowout and I thought the boy was channeling Michael Jackson by the time he got home.  Full concentric body spins and falsetto singing on the field, Andy said.  Cracking the coaches up, Andy said.  It's 10:30 at night, he is bumping into furniture with his crazy jazz hands and Abby is finally asleeeeeep, I seethed said.
• Sadie jumped the fence and got splinters in her belly last night because she couldn't find me
• I found out I have 5% muscle mass in my entire body.  Abigail could kick my ass if she wanted to. 

All that behind me, I am sucking in my visceral womb and pressing into today. 

Because the grind is inescapable.  Every single one of us must grind. 

May we all grind into billowing mountains of powdered gold.  Or a crapton of anarchy angel dust.