Tag Archives: freight train

Ah, But Underneath…

“Today, I’m okay.  Tomorrow might be a different story.”

I’m sure that when you read that on Tuesday, at least one of you was out there screaming at me to keep my mouth shut. (mind shut?  fingers still?)  You were willing the word vacuum into action, just knowing that saying (or typing) such a thing would certainly doom me to be anything but okay on Wednesday.  If that was you, I have to tell you that you were sorely mistaken.  Wednesday was absolutely fine.

Friday.  Friday was the problem.  It hit me like a freight train…if a freight train was to silently sneak up on you like a looming cloud of sad.  Combined with a complete lack of motivation and a need for an endless supply of chocolate.  So, not really like a freight train at all.  I’ll get back to you when I come up with a better analogy.  (Should be the 4th of Never)

I spent my afternoon lounging around watching a marathon of Say Yes to the Dress: Bridesmaids (don’t judge!).  This really should have been completely safe: a show focusing on catty girls and crazy brides trying (mostly) hideous dresses.  The least likely show to tip the scales but then the owner of the store goes and announces to her staff that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer and the flood gates opened.

I realized that regardless of how “okay” I am on any given day, the gravity of the situation and the full weight of my emotions is always right there, just beneath the surface.  It takes but a scratch to open the wound and it’s far from pretty when that happens.

I could have stayed home and wallowed the evening away, but instead I fought that desire and went out with a friend, knowing that she would accept me in any state, even the one where I resemble the mascot from the Mucinex commercials.  With that knowledge as my safety net, I decided I was better served to do my hair and makeup in the hopes that the “look better, feel better” theory would apply to me and head out the door.  I spent a good portion of the evening crying…from laughter over the most stupid things.  Yes, I realize that my picture accompanies the definition of “mood swing.”  Better that than melancholy, depressed, morose (or any other synonym) as far as I’m concerned.

There was a much more significant realization which carries rather large ramifications, but that would put me far over my promised 500(ish) word count and I won’t be known as the blogger who broke her promise only 3 posts in.  Also, I have to give you a reason to come back!  So, for now, I have a date with my pillow.

I bid you adieu.