For the third day in a row, I am dealing with jags of hormonal crying that seem to last forever and a wave of pinned-to-the-couch depression that I can't shake. When I do find the energy and motivation to actually do something, it's usually too little, too late. The day is done and I'll just keep everyone awake by rattling around the house.
Tomorrow is an attempted redo of my husband's birthday. I'm terrified at the kind of company I will be, especially in light of how his actual birthday went. I have a sitter hired so that the two of us can hopefully have a nice lunch, with a little time left over for walking around downtown or shopping for fencing and tools. Maybe.
I guess I should clean something.
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