God, I am in it.
That’s what I call being in a funk. Sad, depressed, call it what you want.
I’m in it.
And holy cow, am I eating my feelings. I made three dozen chocolate chip cookies two nights ago. And they were a-maz-ing. There are now three lonely stragglers left.
The husband has encountered setback after setback on the job front. What started as an amazing opportunity after a l-o-n-g workless drought turned into yet another too good to be true episode, and he was let go a month before health care began and probation ended. I have some choice words for that employer, but because this is the world wide web, I’ll keep them to myself.
Because he’s amazing at getting right back on his feet again and pursuing every opportunity, that dry spell lasted one day. Pretty freaking fantastic, right? 2014 was looking like it was going to be A-OK. And then last night, in the middle of an episode of Dexter, I found out that we are once again, a one income family (yes, we live under a rock and yes, my husband has the worst timing known to man).
You have got to be freaking kidding me. I may have gotten 1.5 hours of sleep last night. And those straggler cookies? They’re lonely no more.
I know there are far worse things that could happen. I also happen to know that we’ve always managed to come out of it on the other side, better for having experienced whatever crazy luck that has befallen us.
But you know what? I’m tired. I don’t feel like being positive. I want a break off this crazy grown up roller coaster and a good ‘ol-fashioned temper tantrum. And some more cookies, damnit.