I’ve been feeling a little down lately. It seems that I can’t claw my way out of this whirlpool of doom and despair. I actually told the women I work with that I have become Eeyore. Thank goodness I’m a donkey who likes homemade wine!
But truly, other than us, our immediate families, or close friends’ suffering from cancer, divorce, money problems, vacation cancellations, heart issues, a special-needs kid, and trouble with the law, things are peachy. Just peachy. *grabs Zoloft*
However, as I told my friend Anissa – who had a stroke, a daughter who fought cancer, and then had more strokes – all of these situations have taught me not to take things for granted.
When I can barely breathe from running I tell myself to keep going; to run because I am able. To run for the members of my family who can not run right now.
When my husband snores, I am thankful he is lying next to me and not in another woman’s bed. Sure, I kick him, but once he rolls over and stops sucking air, I think about how fortunate I am that he honors our vows.
The point is, things could always be worse. *dons helmet* *braces for roof to cave-in*
I force myself to be cheerful by reminding myself of these things, exercising regularly, eating healthily, venting frequently, and hugging my loved ones abundantly. Also, adding -ly to every word I can.
I have also been watching a lot of America’s Funniest Home Videos. Nothing makes me feel better than watching people fall. At least I admit it. Go on. You can admit it too.
I have also turned to my Twitter favorites more times than I can count. Dear Mom, Twitter is where I work all day and is a place where you can update people on your status in 140 characters or less. A character is… oh, never mind. Just know that these people remind me things aren’t as bad as they could be.
I could be living through the I-hate-hand-washing phase.
Apparently, and I'm basing this on my daughter's reaction to taking a bath and washing her hands, pure acid pours out of our faucets.— Cara (@Carabee) December 6, 2011
Or a colicky baby.
There's a special place in heaven for parents of colicky babies. It looks strangely like a spa... with tequila.— Jennifer Kindhouse (@JKindhouse) November 3, 2011
Or have a dog in heat.
I just had to wipe a dog's vagina. This is not the life I had imagined.— Morgan Shanahan (@the818) September 20, 2011
With a little faith, love, laughter, Twitter and homemade wine, I will get through the muck.
But, just in case, I’m going to keep this helmet on.