Sowing Seeds

Growing writers, growing teachers, growing myself.



Aching feet, I kick off my heels and pull off my socks. It feels so good to wiggle my toes on the plush carpet, the thick padding providing the softest of cushions.

I slip out of my work clothes and into compfy pants and a t-shirt. Neon green numbers on my alarm clock catch my eye: 9:40. Boy, it’s been a long, 14 hour day.

My stomach reminds me that it’s been too long since I’ve eaten. My hunger has reached a point that I don’t care what I eat, I just need food. Cereal is the quickest, easiest thing. I snatch a box out of the pantry and fill my bowl to the point of spilling. The milk barely fits.

I take my bowl to the basement, find the best spot on the couch, prop my still-throbbing feet on the coffee table and cover with a blanket. Devouring my fruit-flavored Cheerios, my head resting against the cushions, I sigh deeply, equally eager for my body to feel nourished and for my legs and feet to relax.

My bowl empties too quickly and while I’m tempted to refill it, I know that if I wait a few minutes, my mind will realize my stomach has been pacified. Besides, I can’t bare the thought of getting off this couch for anything other than stumbling into bed. I may even be too tired to do that.

I’m exhausted.

by posted under Slice of Life | 1 Comment »    
One Comment to


  1. March 15th, 2012 at 10:41 pm       Joanne Toft Says:

    I know this feeling well.

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