*sniff, sniff*

I had a really bad morning.  Really bad.  (I will spare you the details, though [much to David's consternation and chagrin] they may show up in the Christmas card this year.)  It was so bad I called David and quit.  I said, "You better be here at 3 o'clock because I won't be.  I can't do this anymore.  Well, technically, I CAN, but I won't!"  Then, since I just quit my job, I decided I had the whole day to do something "just for me."  Here is what I did:

1.  I took a shower...and took the time to wash my hair and shave my legs.

2.  I bleached my upper lip hair.  (Technically, this is really for everybody looking at me, but it still felt like it was for me.)

3.  And over-tweezed my eyebrows.  (I got a little carried away in my angst...plus all that crying blurred my vision.)

4.  Went to Zoe's for a little solace in the wool section. 


You'd be surprised at what I paid for this little pile, but just look at it.  A whole yard of red wool.  I'm still drooling over it.  Almost makes me want to cry again.

5.  Drove to Dave's work for a hug and a kiss.  He wasn't there.  He had received my message and driven home to put me back together.  When he didn't find me there, he folded and put away all my  laundry.  When I heard this I started crying again in earnest.  I waited in the parking lot for him and then soaked his shirt and tie.  I love this man.

6.  Made one last stop at Old Brick House for some more retail therapy, and bought an 11-drawer dresser for the toy room.  (A few weeks ago, the cheap, but HEAVY, plywood "armoire" fell on and almost crushed my four-year-old.  This is my idea of replacing it.)  I just marched in there and bought it. 

The lady said, "Wow.  Did you know what you wanted before you got in here?" 

 I said, "No, I just had a really bad morning."

Confused, "So...you really need a dresser?"

I sighed, "No, I just decided it was time to get paid for doing the hardest job in the world.  I needed a reason to stay."

She cocked her head and said, "Oh, honey, I hear you."  

At which I burst into tears again.

So now I'm broke and swollen and ready for bed.  And my kids are on their way. (* Sniff, sniff.* And one of those little shuddering sighs that you get from hard crying.)   The cavalry is not coming.  I am here in the gap.  I am here still. 

(Though I may have to high-tail it out of here before our Sunday budget meeting.)