One foot in front of the other


I forgot to write my positive self talk yesterday. I backed masterfully into a parking space, I was pretty proud of that. I also didn’t use my lunch hour to take the cash in the house down to the liquor store. That was a difficult thing. I could have had it gone before my husband came home and he would never know. I wouldn’t be using the account. I am proud of myself for that.

This morning was a bit easier to drag out of bed, though the sadness and frustration is still thick when I try and take a breath. Tonight is supposed to be a ropes coarse. I will have to take a picture of it so you all can see what it is. I hear it’s voluntary, which is good, because I’d probably fall just standing next to it. Dave and the boys slackfline all the time and I have tried. Balance is not my strong suit.

It is almost noon and I am seriously considering taking a page from the great George Costanza and hiring someone to build me a hidden nook under my desk where I can curl up in a ball and just lay there. Though it probably smells bad under there, my feet aren’t the most pleasant odor in the world.


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