Myth of Sisyphus by Titian 1549

Many of you are probably familiar with the Myth of Sisyphus: "a figure of Greek mythology who was condemned to repeat forever the same meaningless task of pushing a rock up a mountain, only to see it roll down again" (wikipedia). It feels like that is my life right now: laundry, cooking, cleaning, picking up toys, changing diapers, ironing, bathing, making beds, sweeping floors, vacuuming, exercising. Even playing with the boys -- I try building a LEGO tower only to have them tear it down as I build it up. I try building a train track -- they pull it apart. I don't even see any progress with my attitude toward our dog, Atticus' attitude toward his brother, or my attempts to organize and simplify our home/stuff. Just a constant futile push against entropy, inertness, unchanging realities within and without. It could be winter -- my dislike of February leaking into January -- or living in winter-six-months-of-the-year Minnesota (though it never really bothered me before). It could be a lack of sleep (but I've had that for three years now). I may need to pith myself in order to keep functioning in my current role.