My first thought was a steely determination to get a workout in. 30 minutes on the stationary bike. Situps. Pushups. First thing. No. Matter. What.
20 minutes later...I find myself still upstairs, making beds, sorting laundry, opening window shades, gagging at the pee smell eminating from the boyz' bathroom...
30 minutes later...I find myself downstairs acting as a short-order cook. This one wants a waffle. That one wants cereal. That other one wants a bagel with cream cheese. Still in pajamas.
40 minutes later...Breakfast cleanup. Decide to clean out fridge. Take out garbage. Still in pajamas.
1 hr later (9am)...Just a quick iPad break. Really, a quick one. Bejeweled. Plants v. Zombies. Words with Friends. Still in pajamas. Cut the Rope, Twitter, Facebook...
1 hr 50 min later...I tear myself away from my preshus iPad and head back upstairs...to finally change into workout clothes. Stop at top of stairs and see that washing machine is finished. Switch laundry. Gag at pee smell eminating from the boyz' bathroom...
2 hrs later (10am)...Head downstairs to grab bathroom cleaner, glass cleaner, sponge and paper towels. Go back upstairs. Clean boyz' bathroom. Still in pajamas.
2 hr 20 min later...Break up a fight over the Wii/iPad/basketball/football/TV (take your pick). Instruct boyz to get dressed. Decide to have a slice of toast. Still in pajamas.
2 hr 30 min later...Upstairs again. Finally change into workout clothes.
2 hr 35 min later...Help Eldest clean out his messy bureau drawers.
2 hr 50 min later...Still upstairs. Switch laundry. Fold and put away clean clothes.
3 hrs later (by now almost 11 am)...Head to basement to work out. Give strict
3 hr 1 min later...Back to kitchen. Forgot water.
3 hr 2 min later...Back to basement. Fiddle with television.
3 hr 3 min later...Finally on bike.
Picture this, but inside. That'd be me.