I sometimes hate this faking thing. It is literally downright exhausting. Is it normal to put forth this much damn effort to cook dinner, or go shopping... or ****... even smile?

Husband's playing his video games. Daughter's in the living room watching Super Why. And I'm sitting on the kitchen floor noticing how much I really need to mop. But I'm working up the motivation to make dinner. Premade burgers that I am literally going to put in a frying pan. And hell I don't even want to do THAT.

Maybe it's in my head... and maybe I'll snap out of it.