This week has been an all time low for me. I detest being cold, and it's cold. I'm sick, and achy all over. My skin is not loving life, due to some kind of disturbance in the hormonal universe....and I'm in pain. I'm scheduled for an MRI this coming Monday to see what's going on with my hip, which on it's own is causing me some stress. Any one of those things can make you have a less than stellar day, but put them together and it's a guaranteed miserable time.
My husband keeps asking me what's wrong, as if the answer I gave him 5 minutes ago has changed suddenly. I think he would be able to tell if I was suddenly feeling great and perky, but alas, that would be too much. I find it irritating, even though I know he just wants me to be well. When I demonstrate this irritation, he then claims I'm being unreasonably irritable. Irritable...yes. Unreasonably... no. It's times like this when I'm best left alone with a heating pad curled up in bed. I would say to just throw chocolate at me, but I'm allergic to chocolate.
It doesn't help that my husband is running around in shorts and flip flops exclaiming how everything is perfect. He's happy as a pig in mud. My kids are just so excited to have a park next door that I think nothing else really matters for them. And then there's the dogs... acting self important as they chase every squirrel, real or imaginary, in the yard. Evidently, I am the sole party pooper in the whole bunch.
I am in a funk..melancholy. I feel like a secondary actor in my own life, here to just support everyone else's joy and gleefulness. Where I used to be the "cruise director", planning activities for everyone, including myself, I now find myself with nothing to do. Part of this is due to not feeling well, and the other part is purposefully trying to take a step back from the busyness we were accustomed to. I realize I like being busy. Letting life pass me by without being engaged in it is not for me. I'm going to have to start looking for things that spark my interest.
