I’m so tired I’m tearing up as I type this, not actually crying just wishing I could. Because I think I would feel better if I could just cry for a few hours.
I’m supposed to go out on my run today. Honestly, I just can’t face it. I am shaky and sore in body and mind and spirit.
I can’t find my jump drive with my resume on it. This simple fact is also making me want to cry.
At least I found my resume on my computer. I need to get a job. I’m worried about my skills getting rusty.
I miss my friends. I miss my sons. I’m going to see my sons today and I need to buck up and not be miserable. They don’t know how terribly I miss them. Of course they miss me too, I can tell, but they won’t understand how terrible an ache it is until (if ever) they have their own children.
I’m not going on my run today. I’m just not. I’m going tomorrow. I can say this. I can do this. I feel like someone has been jumping up and down on my back and neck. And I do not want to have a nervous breakdown in the middle of the road in this very small town.
|This guy? Such an ASSHOLE.|
picture credit: Alien - alien design: H.R. Giger, directed by Ridley Scott, owned by 20th Cent. Fox