Day 3

So it’s day 3. I’m already over blogging. It’s Saturday, my daughter is at her dad’s house, I don’t want to do anything. Just want to chill, like deep comatose chill. Ugh…why did I agree to this.?

I’m home alone, went out earlier today to get my hair done. Came back home to do…well…nothing. That’s my deep dark secret, I’m laaaaazzzzyyyyyy. My past time consists of binge watching television shows on On Demand or Netflix and obsessing over Facebook.

Today is different though. I’m a bit restless and probably won’t stay in the house tonight. Need to get out and get some air. Put some space between myself and yesterday. You know when “it” hits you, he doesn’t quite leave you. “It” feels like that churning in your stomach that won’t settle down, or that lump in your throat you can’t swallow away.

Swerve. Tag. Let’s switch it up a bit. This morning I went outside to bring my garbage can into the garage. The sun felt about right. Felt like a March sunshine. You know, the type of sunlight that gives you a touch of heat with a slight nibble of coldness (not to be confused with the bite you get in February). There was joy and hope in that sunshine. An anticipation of springtime, newness, warm season holidays (Easter, Memorial Day, July 4th). I know I’m stretching it with Easter, but you know sometimes it’s warm on Easter Sunday.

Not a good swerve. I don’t want to be the Debby Downer of this blogging challenge but my writing is my voice and my voice is my heart and it’s hurt. I went outside this morning and truly felt joy in feeling the spring sun on my neck. I truly got excited for all the fun that spring will bring, followed by more fun times in the summer. Then I felt guilty. There’s a young lady just down the street whose world is turned upside down. Who cares about the stupid March sun.

Swerve. Yep, getting out of this house tonight. My daughter, Morgan, is okay by the way. She’s enjoying a little space and distance from this situation.

Tomorrow will be a new day. I will take in the sunshine and warmth with the nibble of cold. I will enjoy, appreciate, relish, celebrate, and envelope the blessings of this joyous new season. I wasn’t ready today, I will be ready tomorrow. “It” will not continue to pull me down.