I sat at my computer all morning, deadline looming, nay, passed, and I tried to write. I wanted to say everything, all the ideas I ever had; I wanted to say so much, and none of it was good enough. I tapped and tapped and tapped. But no words came.
A morning at my desk and all I had was a virtual shopping basket ful of handmade treasures. Etsy.
I went back to the salon to fix my hair. It didn't get fixed, really, but at least I felt better about it, and I know that it's just hair. Time will pass. It will grow. Water under bridges.
I got home after six, and turned on the oven. A warm dinner, a clean kitchen. That's what I wanted. And also time which I would use to catch up on work.
The oven was broken. Again. Still. After having been fixed yesterday. So I cooked the meatloaf at the neighbours'. They had just taken a casserole out, and their oven was still warm.
My girl wouldn't go to sleep. But then she did. In her own bed. I didn't even need to hold her hand.
My husband came home from work after nine, and we talked. We really talked about who we are, who we aren't and how we want to remember to hold onto what we have and say thank you thank you thank you for all of it, every day, because even when it's hard, it's so easy and I know, oh I know how lucky I really am.