And it punched us square in the face.
Dave and I have done our best for 9 days to keep our chins up. To take action. To make plans and backup plans and backup plans for the backup plans.
And until today The Planning and The Action was working. We knew The Bad was out there, but we were fighting against it.
Oh, don't get me wrong, occasionally a fearful, hopeless thought would sneak in. But today The Bad came creeping in like a green mist. Under the doors. Through the cracks under the windows. It curled around our feet and between our toes, and it swirled around our hearts and took hold.
And just like that: we were hopeless.
Dave did better than I did. He got up. He got dressed. He shaved. He had conversations with grownups.
I, on the other hand, am still in my pajamas. Have been all day.
Other than the obvious unemployment issues, I blame all this sadness on the cold weather. That and cold symptoms. My entire family has been sick for going-on 3 weeks. Everyone is coughing. And everyone is cold. We're cold with a cold.
It makes for a bad combination.
So this evening I hauled myself up to the urgent care doc and loaded up on prescriptions. I'm sick of coughing. And hacking. And sniffling.
But mostly I'm just sick of complaining.
Tomorrow will be better. I know it will. I have so much to be thankful for.
Like steroids. And cough syrup.
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So, when my co-workers and I had our jobs eliminated in October of this year, we were stressed (even though we anticipated it). However, we all agreed it was important to get up every day, shower, dress, put on make-up (if appropriate), put on jewelry (if appropriate) and go out and meet the world. Have to admit though, sometimes staying in the pjs in bed is the only appropriate action for the day. Rest assured, your feelings are normal. It's okay. Promise.
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