waking up wrong

Yesterday was one of those days when you wake up and the world is just wrong. On days like yesterday the bed doesn't get made and nothing in the refrigerator satisfies. There was lots to do on my calendar and my desk was cluttered and disorganized. I felt like doing nothing but reading under a blanket on the sofa. My S.O. would be working late into the evening, so I had the entire day to be a slug. I felt as if any moment, tears could fall, and couldn't figure out why.

My blues were punctuated by the fact that I had to pick up Bailey's ashes at the vet. I put it off all day long, thinking that later was better. And I thought a lot about what I would do with him when I got him home. I was sure he would stay with me for awhile, on top of my dresser or on the entertainment center, but sooner or later (probably later) I think I should release him into nature. I'm thinking that Texas was his home, and perhaps it would be best to take him there, but then the other side of my brain says that anywhere with me was his home, and he should stay with me. And so the dilemma remains.

When I finally picked him up, it was the collar that triggered the meltdown, but it passed as I drove through Sioux Falls with the sunroof open and a call from Lynnette, who soothed my soul and let me talk about it

I also had a surprise visitor in the afternoon. I think she came to remind me that my "blues", though valid, were a drop in the bucket compared to her life. She is a friend of Steve's, and she was having a meltdown of her own and felt as if our house was a safe place to be. And so she came and unburdened herself a bit. What I've learned is not to give answers, but to ask the right questions, as my answers aren't always the best answer for everyone. So I listened, and asked, hoping that she could come up with her own answers. In her case, all the answers have serious ramifications, but I tried to remind her that to everything there is a reason and a purpose. Not sure she bought it. And I asked myself what her visit meant for me. This I'm still contemplating.

Today will be better, I tell myself, despite the fact that the weather looks dire and a gray mist falls outside. One bite at a time, I tell myself, that's how you eat the elephant. And so I will organize the office, pay bills, work on the magazine, do some writing, pack a bag, eat something, and let today be better. And it will all make sense. Bailey is here, only is spirit to cuddle with me, and make me feel better. But Buddy is quite willing to step in and comfort me when the blues show up.

Steve will be fishing much of the weekend, and I will do something else. Perhaps I will go to the lake and hang out with his mother, or perhaps I will stay here. I haven't decided. I'm almost afraid to stay here, as gray can turn to black quite unexpectedly when you're alone.

And Saturday, the sun will shine...or so says the Weather Channel. A good book and a lawn chair by the lake may help.

Looking back on yesterday, and taking into account the fact that I had to revisit Bailey's passing, I cannot figure out why I was blue. I wonder why some days just feel wrong. Do we need these days to help us experience days that are right? Is it the soul asking for a bit of rest? Is it the human spirit longing for attention? Or is it a call to find some good in the chaos? Most likely it's hormones, and it will pass.