

There are 168 hours in my week.
Some go to work. Some to parenting. And too many to just lying there sleep-adjacent (thanks, peri).
I don't mind being busy if I'm adding value to my day or my family's life — I'll run on adrenaline and a colour-coded calendar.
What drains me are the rinse-and-repeat hours: Cleaning messes that'll be back in 10 minutes, re-folding sat-on laundry, resetting rooms like it's Groundhog Day.