Nothing could go right today.

I was sad.

I was depressed.

I was hurting.

I was angry.

I was so very lonely yet wanted didn’t want to be with anyone.

Nothing made sense.

I couldn’t sit still but didn’t want to do anything.

I didn’t want to talk but I really wanted someone to listen.

I needed to write but didn’t want to say anything worthwhile.

I wanted to reach out but wanted to be left alone.

I looked at my husband and begged him pathetically through my tears, “Please just help me to not feel things so deeply! I hate it so much. Please. Please I just don’t want to feel.”

None of this made sense to me. Why? I was either crying or angry today. And then I looked at the calendar and it all made sense.  It is the experience of being a dry drunk.  (Or in my case, a drug-free druggie.)  Climbing the walls for an invisible fix that I haven’t had for years.  Acting out like a user but not using.  It’s the timing.

So I am going with it. I am feeling what I feel. I am riding the wave. I am living it as it comes yet not letting it take me down. Today I will cry if I need to. Laugh when I feel it. Be alone when I need to be. And forgive myself for not reaching out when I so desperately needed to reach out.

Tomorrow? Tomorrow will be better. Experience tells me tomorrow will be good.

It is today that I feel unworthy and risk throwing it all away. And you have no idea how close I came. I am just in that bad of a place tonight.

Tonight I think I am going to go to bed and cry. Because I need to. Because I hate being where I am and know I need to not let it simmer inside. I am going to be angry, hurt and sad. But just for today.

Tomorrow I will share with you the Wonderful, Awesome, So Good, Very Big Day.  And why I know it will be a good day.

But tonight, I’m gonna cry

Want to know what is worse than writer’s block? Being mocked by that freaking paper clip in Word. I really hate it. I mean, I want to take it and untwist it and make it into obscene sculptures to send to unsuspecting successful authors who have made it through this already.

But tonight, when it mocked me? That was it. Mocked. Me.

See?

I need to get out and talk to more people. When the paper clip mocks me, it is time for a break. But the book? So much good to say about it. So much happening. But first? I have a paper clip sculpture to make!

On Saturday morning I contacted Dell Support (and I was very pleasantly surprised! I loved them!) because my keyboard is missing a key and I’m getting a bit tired of having to push the little rubber piece in a gazillion times until it actually types the letter for me (C if your curious which letter) and they promised to ship me a replacement keyboard. One that I could install myself. Which meant that I had worried for nothing, because I wouldn’t have to ship my laptop away! And then I mentioned that my power cord had been acting a little funny and only working when the planets were aligned to his (my power cord is a boy) liking. They said they would ship a new power cord out as well.

I thanked them and went about my business. (You know, the business of sitting on my laptop all day and smiling happily at the screen, because LAPTOP, I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART.)

I’m sure you all can imagine what happened next. The damn power cord broke for real and the battery on my laptop died and I have been using my old *gasp* desktop computer and I must tell you that I felt DIRTY using that old thing. Like a cheater! It just didn’t feel right.

Which is why when I opened the door to see a box from Dell sitting on my doorstep I began weeping tears of joy. The FedEx man handed me a tissue and went about his day.

I ran into the house and ripped the box open, plugged my baby in and sat down to be reunited with my one true love.

I was just so excited that by the time I had pushed the power button I was hyperventilating. And then when the black screen with the big blue letters that spell out DELL came on the screen, well, I probably shouldn’t tell you what I did, but I’m going to.

I tossed that baby down onto the couch, climbed on and started humping my laptop.

Its good to have her back.

(If you are wondering what my good news is, I still haven’t gotten the all clear to share it yet, so as soon as I do you’ll be the first second third person I tell, internet! But, keep guessing because some of those guesses are cracking me up!)    

• Today is THE BIG DAY. Leslie is having her baby today. I can’t wait to see pictures of Lucy. I. CAN’T. WAIT.
• My baby boy is eight years old now. EIGHT YEARS OLD. Someone hold me.
• To celebrate his birthday we went to Medieval Times and the Dupage Children’s Museum. We had fun. Pictures will be added to flickr as soon as I get Photoshop off of my old laptop and on to my new one. Is that even possible? I hope so.
• Last night, while eating dinner, Cindy-Lu turned to me and said “Mom? Can I say Jesus cries?” “Jesus cries?” I repeated back to her. And then it hit me. Jesus CHRIST. “Er, no. Maybe you should just stick to singing Jesus Loves Me in that sweet little voice of yours and I’ll be the one banging things around and muttering Jesus Christ, mkay?”
• Bullet point posts would not be complete without a couple of bullets dedicated to rants. Let the ranting commence. (Also, each bullet point post should contain SOMETHING about Wal-Mart. Its like a law or something.)
• Last night I walked in the doors to Wal-Mart and went to grab a cart. Our Wal-Mart just recently replaced about half of their carts FINALLY BECAUSE I WAS REALLY SICK OF DRAGGING MY CART ALONG BEHIND ME WHILE IT TWISTED AND TURNED BECAUSE THE EFFING WHEELS WERE SO EFFED UP and so I always look for the carts with the gray sparkle paint instead of the older non-sparkle paint. I like to push my cart like a normal person, you know? I was walking up to pick out the perfect cart when an older gentleman was pulling a cart out for himself, an older one, and then noticed me. “Here! You take this one!” he said all friendly like. And then he took the new sparkly one that was behind the crap cart. I hate when people try to be nice to me. It just ruins my day.
• Lately Cleatus has been noticing DIRT in my house. And pointing it out to me. For example, the other night we were sitting on the couch together and he looked at the TV screen and stated that it was “covered in shit.” I replied that the Windex and paper towels were located in the kitchen. He just kind of laughed and changed the subject. Last night we were eating dinner and as he stood up from the table he was eye level with the light that hangs down above our dining room table. “This light needs dusted.” Again, I told him where the cleaning supplies were located and he just bust out laughing. Ha ha ho hee. Aren’t I funny? Expecting a man to clean something. I just kill me.
• I cried when I watched The Biggest Loser last night. I was SO HAPPY that Bernie won the money in the first round. Did anyone else think that the one pound difference between Mark and Bernie was rigged? Seriously? ONE POUND? I would punch myself in the face if I had the chance to win a hundred grand and I lost by ONE POUND. I didn’t really care who won the main prize, because I loved all three of the finalists. Roger was looking hot, wasn’t he?

Alright, I’m done. I’ll be sitting at my computer, staring at Leslie’s blog, and hitting refresh like a maniac until I see a picture of that baby.

When I call to tell you that my internet is down AGAIN and you tell me to restart my computer that is SLIGHTLY annoying. Especially considering the fact that I just told you that the ONLY TIME my internet stops working is AFTER RESTARTING MY COMPUTER. Also, when you ask me to open Internet Explorer, click on Tools and then Accounts, you are just going to have to FIGURE OUT SOMETHING ELSE when I tell you that there is no Accounts option under Tools. Do not tell me to go to the start menu and look for some program called Microsoft Outlook Internet Explorer, because you see, Outlook and Explorer ARE TWO DIFFERENT PROGRAMS. Tell me which one you want me to open and I will do it. I am not dumb, quit talking to me like I am.

Sincerely,

Me

I kinda like this question and answer thing.  My question for you today on Hump Day as it’s half way to the weekend is two fold:

What is one of your triggers?  As in what sets you off is such a way that you need to pray to let go?

And how do you relax?  What puts you at peace?

My own personal answers?  One of my triggers is anyone that would intentionally try to hurt someone else-whether it be road rage to abuse.  My instinct is to get in their face and give them the ‘what how’!

You know..the ‘What’ do you think your doing?  and ‘How’ can you behave that way?

In these instances, sometimes I react and sometimes I pray depending on the circumstances.  When anyone messed with my sister, when we were both single and hitting the town, I for sure gave them the evil eyes and a few choice words.

Now as I’m not around as much of that, I try to get some peace by letting my reaction not take control and handing it to God.

How do I relax?

A good book, preferably in a hammock or on the beach….but in a quiet house will do.

My son kept calling out that name Abbey..Abbey wait up! She turned around, gave my boy a smirky cute smile and vanished in a moment’s blink but only to appear again by the swings. My son seemed to be having the time of his life and they looked like a pair of butterlies flying around without a care in the world. The innocence and joy of childhood radiates over this picture perfect day. These are moments that I cherish as I remember in my own past that I too had an Abbey in my life. A friend that was willing to give up her own favorite last piece of chocolate chip cookie.

A motherly voice suddenly called out from a distance. It appeared that it was time for Abbey to go home but she seemed reluctant and kept on pleading to stay longer by the sandbox. Her mother approached and she gently but graciously told her little jewel, “you have 10 more minutes and then it’s time to go.” The little girl nodded with a smile followed by a big thank you hug to her mother. Her mother had a well-to-do distinguished look to her demeanor. She was a tall slender lady with the same smile as her daughter. 10 minutes quickly passed and her mother reminded Abbey that it’s time. At this moment, she noticed that my son’s face has made a sad turn as well. The mother turned to me and said, you must be daddy, would you like to take your son and stop by our home for a cup of tea or hot chocolate? My husband is home doing some yardwork. I really didn’t want to impose and felt a little awkward being strangers to them but before I could say anything, my son jumped up from the sandbox and said..YES YES..I love hot chocolate. Can we daddy…pleaseeee! and I couldn’t say no after that display of enthusiasm but truthfully I couldn’t resist a good cup of hot chocolate as well.

Another short peaceful strolled, we arrived at her home. The dad was out in the front yard fixing the swing by the great big tree on their front porch. We quickly greeted one another and exchange plesantry hand shakes. Her mom invited all of us in and we sat down for a cup of hot chocolate. We both took a sip from our creamy chocolates with whip cream on top almost as synchronized as father and son can be. Suddenly we heard giggles between the mother and daughter and we were a little puzzled by their amusement. The mother handed me a napkin and proceed to help my son wipe off the hot chocalate whip cream mustache he had all over his mouth. We both looked at each other with innocent silliness and laughed the moment off.

After sipping our favorite drinks, the parents invited us to a quick tour around the house. It is a beautiful house decorated with colonial antiques of all sorts. I started noticing some of the family pictures they had out on top of the fireplace. I noticed there was a picture in particular that there were two little girls of similar age. I asked the mother is this your daughter too?..She had a slight pause in her tone and said yes…that’s Abbey. I didn’t notice the mother’s pause at first and told my son to come over to see the picture. My son saw the picture and said, yeah that’s Abbey. At this moment, the little girl whom my son was playing in the sandbox said with a smile, yea..that’s my twin sister Abbey. I turned to the mother a little bit embarassed having called the little girl the wrong name all this time thinking she is Abbey.

The mother was very gracious and told me her little girl that my boy was playing in the sandbox is named Abigail or Abi for short. Abbey on the other hand was her twin sister. I then told the mother that my son perhaps had played with Abbey before in the park and that he named the park Abbey’s park. My son was obviously very fond of Abbey but somehow about six months ago, she stopped going to the park until today he saw Abi thinking she was her sister Abbey. At that moment, I noticed that the mother was trying hard to hold back a little tear and then she said, “We lost Abbey to a rare form of cancer about 3 months ago. Today was the first time her twin sister Abigail was willing to go out to their favorite place to play!” The favorite place she was talking about is what my son calls “Abbey’s park.”

My son later went home and asked me, daddy…where is Abbey? I told him, think of the time you played with her in the park and remember her in your heart and that’s where Abbey is.