When the kids are awake, I am waiting for their nap time to arrive.
When they are napping, I am waiting for them to wake up.
In the morning, I am waiting for the evening when Tonton comes home.
In the evening, I am waiting for the kids to go to bed.
When they are in bed, I am waiting for dawn, a sign that this restless night is almost over.
During the weekdays, I am waiting for the weekend to thrill me.
In the weekend, I am sleeping through most of it, waiting for the week to start over again.
When the kids are babies, I am waiting for them to walk so that I don't have to carry them around.
When they are walking, I am waiting for them to talk to me.
When they are talking, I am waiting for them to be reasonable.
When the laundry bag is empty, I am waiting for it to be filled up.
When it is full, I am waiting for the sunny day to dry it all.
Constantly, patiently, waiting, endlessly, everyday. The feeling is so tiring. I want a break, something different from this daily monotony. It is draining me emotionally and I'm slipping into a depression again.
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