The husband and I are an excellent parenting team. We just handled a tween breakdown pretty fucking effectively. Now she’s going to bed happy instead of sobbing.
Jackson somehow managed to sleep through the entire thing. I’m starting to think that kid could sleep through the apocalypse. He’d be like the dude in 28 Days Later.
Cancelling a conference call because the day is already hard enough without having to talk to that chick.
I’ve only broken down once so far. I count that as a win.
It feels oh so very good to be back in the world today.
I went to court this morning and did my lawyer thing.
I’m sitting in my office next to a giant stack of files that require attention, and even that feels good.
Maybe, just maybe, I’ve got this after all.
Happy birthday. I miss you.
Can you see the resemblance?
I’m feeling better physically right now than I have in quite some time. The problem is that I’m a mess mentally. I have raging anxiety about the upcoming week. This last week was such a shit show.
Tomorrow will be hard. So will Friday. And Wednesdays are always rough. See…I’m already psyching myself out.
I just want to be unconscious for a while. Wish me luck. It’s hot and I can’t get comfortable and my mind is racing.
I’m such a fucking ray of sunshine, am I right?
This is the pic you get for this prompt because it’s the only pic I’ve taken all day.