The husband and I are getting ready to go away together for the weekend, alone, for the first time since 2002. Naturally we would have to receive some seriously shitty news yesterday, as a sending away gift of sorts. It’s one more lousy thing to add to my slagheap of problems to obsess over. I don’t even feel like leaving now, but the little man is looking forward to some time with his grandma. And the husband, well, I think he’s less excited about our trip now…especially as he’s just learned that, at a bed and breakfast, the morning meal is generally had at a table shared with the other guests. Not good news for the terminally shy (I thought he knew, honestly I did). And he knows what a wreck I am. I spent last night freaking out for so long I didn’t get to bed until 4am. Initially I’d been thinking that this year, thus far, had been something of a rollercoaster ride. I was wrong. There have been no ups. Just downs. There’s been no bottoming out, no getting a break, no catching your breath…just pure freefall.
