The last week has really kicked our butts. My spouse and I have been mostly taking turns being sick. Not just "cough-cough" sick but the whole shebang: cough, sore throat, serious body aches, sinus pressure, gastric troubles. Add to that the fact that we had days of warm rain and gloom, our dryer still isn't fixed and we still only have one car running, plus a major bank account scare yesterday (it all got sorted out to our satisfaction in the end, but it was VERY alarming), and this is not exactly the most pleasant home on the block.
The stress that comes with being sick, missing work, having to share transportation, and managing laundry in a totally different way from the last, well, 36 years of my life has taken its toll on my personality. I'm sure it's just temporary. I find myself thinking and saying things I don't necessarily actually believe or want to say out loud. My filter, it seems, has been coughed and sneezed out over the last week and a half. Just last night I experienced some road rage driving in Hoover. (Honestly, driving in Hoover on a Friday night would drive even the most zen and solemn woman to some sort of utterance she'd ordinarily not say in front of her children.) I yelled, "Oh, you stupid piece of....butthead!" at a car that was NOT passing me in the passing lane. The term made my daughters laugh (we were attempting a Girls' Night Out despite my feeling like crap). My youngest, who's nine, said, "it's just called road rage, Mom. You're okay."
I was okay, once I got some of it out. It's true. One thing my oldest friends have always depended upon is me saying, to just about situation, "it's not the end of the world. Everything will be okay, eventually." People who've known me for ages (and also my kids) have come to rely on my assurance that things could always be worse. It sounds pessimistic, but that's never my intention. It's just the truth. I've gotten through some hard times, and I've seen others do the same. Sometimes we emerge with scars, partially broken. But still we find a way out.
In early October 2011, nearly all my utilities had been cut off because I didn't have a job and my bank account was empty. The only reason I still had a place to live was because I'd paid my rent a year in advance. Frustrated, I called my dad to vent. I had sold my favorite pieces of jewelry to put gas in my car so I could drive to the few places I needed to drive (school, grocery store). I was broke and there was no hope on the horizon. I just wanted to hear from someone else what I am always so confident in telling others, and he knew it. "Remember when you didn't think you'd make it through [insert terrible ordeal here]? But you did. And you will."
We are still feeling pretty crappy here. Our van won't crank and we're still hanging our laundry to dry in creative ways about the house. But this time, I can look and see that all our bills are paid, and our freezer and pantry and fridge are all full. We have something exciting to look forward to (Morrissey is in TEN DAYS!). And so far, all the kids are healthy. Also, we've had two whole days of sunshine and open-window weather! I have hope that it will be all right in the end.