It’s been a tough week. Well, it’s only Wednesday, and I’m already talking about my tough week. Ya get me. Some of last week seems to have leached into this week and turned it into a long, weary campaign instead of the quick march I expected it to be. I’m dead tired, undernourished, and annoyed to pieces that I haven’t written more than 500 words this week. But I’m surviving- as you do. After all, the house has to be paid off, and groceries must be bought even if one has no time to sit down and eat them. Appearances must be kept up.
So I thought that instead of talking about the bad, I would mention the good things of this week. (The above paragraph doesn’t count as whinging, because context, yanno?)
1. The dog did not poop in the house. This is very, very good.
2. I’ll have my first aid certificate by tomorrow afternoon, God willing.
3. I got half the pantry cleared out and put in order. The door now closes. Score!
4. I was reminded again that regardless of how I feel, God is still looking after me, and is always there when I remember to look. Feelings get in the way sometimes. Especially those nasty, anxious ones that make you want to chunder your breakfast all over your shoes.
5. My sister is awesome and buys me presents. Cos, well- presents.
I’m still not sure whether I’m hanging on or losing grip, but right now I have my sars, and a poptart (yah, the Americans do something right) and season 3 of 24. I’m doing all right.
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