demanding days

My Saturday: Woke at 6am. Met running buddy at 7am for a ten mile run. Came home, showered, and met husband to go to farmer's market. Carried home 20 pounds of veggies. Loaded two cars, a trailer, and a truck with all of Number 1 son's belongings and drove to his new abode. Unloaded the stuff. Ate some lunch. Went back out to Target to buy him a shower curtain and take a few forgotten items. Back home. Started cleaning all of the remaining unwanted crap from his room and remove the twenty or so posters and all the other stuff that was tacked, pinned, and taped to walls in preparation for Number 2 son moving into the now abandoned room. Number 2 son would be home the very next day, and so I thought what the hell, I should just paint the room right this very minute while it is devoid of all furniture because school will be starting and we will just never get this whole room moving thing done if I. Don't. Just. Do. It. Husband helped by prepping walls which had numerous holes, one of them large, and had also been spray painted with graffiti which had to be covered with Kilz. I drove out AGAIN (big sigh) for paint. The hardware store frustrated me in a major and unnecessary way. We spent the next few hours painting the whole room a light blueish gray with a contrast wall of darker steel blue gray. (Looks a tad bluer than this photo shows.) Then fixed dinner--I think, I don't even really remember. I was so physically exhausted, and a bit emotionally exhausted from son moving out, that by Saturday night I cried from exhaustion. I very rarely get to that level of exhaustion. And that was my Saturday. Sometimes I wonder if I demand too much of myself, but there are things to be done. Sunday was not a lot better. I need a vacation day soon.
Photo: the first and last time this room will be clean and the walls unmarred.