Where's my consolation prize?

I'm tired.

No wait. That's not emphatic enough.

I'm exhausted.

And I don't even know what to do about it anymore. Work is insane. The gym is a chore. My class gives me a headache. Personal/family matters are stressful: BF's mom isn't well and we're moving up the sale of my Grandma's house. None of these things alone is catastrophic. But the sum of them makes want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head. And speaking of covers, I bounce back and forth so unpredictably between my place and BF's that when I wake up in the morning it takes me a minute to figure out where I am.

There you have it. My recipe for exhaustion. Not the fun brand of Lindsay Lohan "exhaustion." The less fun kind that doesn't involve any booze, wild parties or Greek shipping heirs. If you're going to exhaust yourself, you oughta get a Greek shipping heir out of the deal. Something to take the edge off.