No Good, Very Bad Day

"I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day."
-Judith Viorist

I was in quite a funk this weekend. Totally blah. We had several activities planned: lunch with an out-of-town friend, church on Sunday, a re-upholstery project for my nephew new "Poang" chair. All of which I thoroughly enjoyed. But as soon as an activity was completed, I slunk back into this mood.

Rob totally didn’t get it. He thought I was mad at him. And, yes, although I got really upset that he had moved the can opener to a location high above my head—I really wasn’t mad at him. He was being really sweet trying to make me happy again, but it didn’t really work. At one point, I just curled up in bed for a half hour, neither sleeping, nor tossing. If I had been alone, I would have just had a good cry and been over it. But I knew that would totally freak him out.

And then I just couldn’t get these awfully-inappropriate-to-the-situation lyrics off my mind. Craig Morgan’s song, “Tough.” Every time I hear it on the radio I think, “I wonder if my husband thinks of me like that. I sure hope he does.” But after such a rough day, I knew that I totally couldn’t live up to that. And that depressed me more.

Well, I’m not so sure the blues are gone, but when I get home this evening, hopefully, at least a spark of the regular ol’ me will be back.