Currently, I am stirring cookie batter for tomorrow’s school bake sale, rocking my one-month old, writing this story and somewhere in the back of my head I am calculating how much my overspending at the commissary this morning is going to mess with this month’s budget.
It is 11:39 at night.
My husband headed to bed about an hour ago after loading his gear into his truck and then letting the dog out to go to the bathroom.