deep breathing

Fog greeted me in the morning; not exactly the cure for the blues.

I buckled down, finished a project that been nagging at me. I read blogs until my eyes were tired. I set up another doctor's appointment and got some work done down at the school.

And it wasn't even noon.

Maybe I should cry more often.

The fog gave way to a fine afternoon, not a cloud in the sky.

I gathered the kids off the bus and headed to the park.

We came unencumbered. I sat in the grass while the kids took to the swings, played cat and dog. (And for once, this isn't an euphemism for bickering.)

We let out a big sigh.

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Comments

Anonymous said…
Crying is good. Your post sounds like there is peace and relief in there somewhere.
Amanda said…
Crying and movement, both salves for the unreachable aches that grip us.
lapoflux said…
I am glad your cry helped - sometimes it really is exactly what you need.
I can't say enough times that I admire how you manage everything. I am proud that you even take the time to check out my blog from time to time because I think you are way cool :-)
And sometimes it's that one extra tiny detail that makes us lose it. The big stuff we keep right on trudging, but that little thing... oooh boy, that's the last straw.
Hope your week this week will better. I'd send Timnits if I could guarantee their fresheness upon arrival.
Daisy said…
Crying helps, I'm convinced. Our society and our lives are just way to busy for our own good. Good for you to have that moment, and then head to the park. Maybe I'll do that today. I've been in a slump for over a week!

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