Today is not a good day. Not a sad day, or a mad day, or even a throw-my-tv-out-the-window day. Just not a good day.
I tried to give today the benefit of the doubt this morning when I woke up by ignoring the various problems that were awaiting me. My earache had manifested into a double ear infection/swimmer's ear, I was days behind on editing, and bunches of little things that I normally wouldn't let bother me were creating a full scale nuclear warhead in my brain. Then I got the most heartbreaking news of all day.
Tim lost his job.
It's depressing to say I felt the ground come out from underneath me, but I did. It's awkward to say I felt no air in my lungs, but I did. And for a moment, I felt myself crack under the surface. We had planned for months now that next year would be the year we'd move in together, a small nest egg preserved for hard times, my first book finished and published with more in the works. The six seconds it took me to read his text telling me of his job loss, and that picture vanished.
Now I'm not saying everything is destroyed. Against all odds, Tim will find another job, I just know it. I will still publish, come hell or high water. And when the time is right, we'll move in together, just not right now. I have to be strong.
Have you ever felt like you couldn't accomplish your goals? Like you were six feet under before you even started? I'd love to hear your triumphs over your struggles, if anything but to show me that I'm not alone and we, Tim and I, can pull through this together.
I tried to give today the benefit of the doubt this morning when I woke up by ignoring the various problems that were awaiting me. My earache had manifested into a double ear infection/swimmer's ear, I was days behind on editing, and bunches of little things that I normally wouldn't let bother me were creating a full scale nuclear warhead in my brain. Then I got the most heartbreaking news of all day.
Tim lost his job.
It's depressing to say I felt the ground come out from underneath me, but I did. It's awkward to say I felt no air in my lungs, but I did. And for a moment, I felt myself crack under the surface. We had planned for months now that next year would be the year we'd move in together, a small nest egg preserved for hard times, my first book finished and published with more in the works. The six seconds it took me to read his text telling me of his job loss, and that picture vanished.
Now I'm not saying everything is destroyed. Against all odds, Tim will find another job, I just know it. I will still publish, come hell or high water. And when the time is right, we'll move in together, just not right now. I have to be strong.
Have you ever felt like you couldn't accomplish your goals? Like you were six feet under before you even started? I'd love to hear your triumphs over your struggles, if anything but to show me that I'm not alone and we, Tim and I, can pull through this together.
