I had a bad day. From morning coffee to climbing into bed at noon and dreaming awful dreams about my husband leaving me and "end of days" inspired epic trauma, to hours of cooking a "meat pie" I couldn't even eat because I don't actually eat meat, it was just a bad day.
Sometimes I think about my grandmother who struggled her whole life with depression, how did she even make herself get out of bed? I have seasons of darkness, but not a lifetime. Poor woman. She had electro shock therapy and whatever they could try to do with drugs for her "nerves". I wonder what would have happened for her if she'd lived a few generations later than she did.
It's OK. We'll call it a day, and end with a wicked hot bath and a little silly TV all piled in the big bed. The kids' fighting makes me cringe but I like them close anyway.
And with Scarlett O'Hara inspired optimism, I'll fall asleep and know that after all, tomorrow is another day.
(just have to watch from 7mn.....)
