There are days when everything and nothing is just wrong
in an Alexander kind of way.
And the little things feel like big things
and the big things feel like giant things.
And all those things seem to weigh too much
and be too bulky
and too awkward
And it leaves you struggling along,
just trying to do your thing.

And you just can’t.

The depths of the day settle in
and pull you under.
And a blanket of quiet ache drapes over you,
and there’s nothing to do but wait for the clock to keep ticking
until you’ve reached a new day.
Every morning brings new mercies, right?

p.s. Adulting is hard.
p.p.s. The puppy is great and wonderful and perfect for us, but I really miss my dog.
p.p.p.s. I’m fine. I really am. Just some days seem heavier than others.