Well the last couple of weeks have not been my favorite ones ever. My ear finally decided to cooperate and return to normal, thankyouverymuchfornothingear. My boys of summer finally pulled out of a 12-game losing streak, whichbitthebigoneeverynight. And, I've been fighting the "we're heading toward fall and therefore toward winter and we're still here here here here and we're never going to leave woe is me" pity party, andthatmakesmelessthanhappytobearoundoflate.
So I've decided that you can be perfectly content with life in general while also feeling wretched wretched wretched about a specific part of your life. And that's confusing for me. It's not hard to put on a smile and talk with friends and generally enjoy moments out of my day, but then I can fall into an abyss quicker than I've ever thought possible just by thinking about what I'm most dreadfully failing at (and we're going on a few years worth of failing...it gets old).
One minute I'm diving into somthing gooey and chocolatey, all warm and fuzzy inside. And the next minute, I remember "Hold on there, girl. No one wants you." And just like that, I'm snivveling into Les Miserables, which, yes, irony (if only in title).
By the way, I'm reading Les Miserables for the first time ever, and it's as if A Tale of Two Cities turned French and about three times longer. I'm also readily admitting that I just glossed over about 8 chapters detailing the battle of Waterloo last night. At this point, that information was expendable. But otherwise, it's a worthwhile read.
Also by the way, do do do do read 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker. I forsee throwing down some thoughts about this soon. This is a book that should leave a lasting impression, unless you're bound and determined to live under your little consumerism-driven rock. And if so, then carry on. (But please reconsider. Thankyousomuch.)
And as a period on this rambling blabbing, I'm packing up two 3-year olds for our weekly gymanstics/tumbling trip. I go with crossword puzzle in hand; it is very much one of my favorite times of the whole widey week. I get a front-row view of 3-year olds tumbling around the gym like little nutballs, and I work to counteract the early-onset Alzheimer's that I feel plagues me at times.
I may have left my purse, keys and iPad at my parents' over the weekend. I was a solid hour down the road before I thought of them. That spells winner.