Got laundry-folding task taken away by kind R who arrived and sent me to another room to meditate. I am incapable of meditating and so instead curled up on dirty (after painting) floor (the small couch being taken by the clothes from the painted closet, and there being not enough empty space on the floor to stretch fully), and promptly fell asleep.

I had no idea wood floor could be so comfortable.

Being awakened by cries -too early- in the morning was brutal nonetheless, and I ended up forgetting L’s food bag in the fog that my brain is now – trekking back home from subway, then back – add 30 min to the commute – 30 min late for work.

R had even less sleep than I – and had to get up in the middle of night again – because he won’t sleep! – and collapsed of exhaustion at her office, and had to go home to sleep it off.

Will there ever be the time when we’d get enough sleep?