After Larry leaving, the wreck, the long trip to Dallas/Houston/home, I'm just here for a bit. Writing.
It's a thing.
And I really can't give details, although I want to, and I can't scream and holler, although I want to.
Suffice it to say, it's work-related. I don't think I'm in the wrong. My feelings are hurt and my confidence is shaken.
I hate feeling like I'm not good enough.
In fact, it makes me blind with rage.
Today was a little better.
Tonight's been okay.
With dog fights, waiting for Larry's work visa, trying to juggle work, organizing things, cleaning, cutting down to 5 cups of coffee a day and...
God, there's a lot.
I swing from tears to laughter and back.
Lorna's got my hysterical back, though, and Michelle is a constant source of support. Chil and Jen are right there. Mother and Kristi text and make me smile. Danielle sends me pictures of Boo. And my daddy knows when to call and what to say.
I'm going to be fine. I really am. I just may need more hugs than normal for a month or two.
Been a gloomy weather day, but a lovely day all around.
I have discovered, at least so far, that being in my forties isn't bad at all. I'm settled, happy, busy, learning things. I'm no more grown up than I ever have been and have discovered a joy in leaping into situations that I'm not prepared for.
On the basics: Sherlock Holmes II was good -- not great, but completely enjoyable. My birthday presents were all fabulous and, somehow, exactly what I needed.
Best line of the day: "I swear, that was the most perfectly Shawnie thing I've heard in months." Barbara ;-)