I’m tired of fighting my native tendency to be lazy, undisciplined and unproductive.
Things are nice here because I’ve pushed myself to make them so. If they weren’t nice, I’d be annoyed.
To further underscore the hypocrisy of the first paragraph, I take satisfaction in the fact that just about everything here that is nice is either directly or indirectly my doing and the result of hard work.
I’m tired of keeping track of things, like the dates on which bills are due, the cat needs to get his flea medicine, the truck must be brought in for an oil change, or fertilizer should be put on the vegetables, the roses and/or the hydrangeas.
I wish someone would send me a present. It doesn’t need to be something big; a box of caramels would do just fine.