As many great things as I have going on right now and despite an awesome weekend with friends, I’ve been a bit stressed lately. I’m in between jobs, but 85 percent sure I’ve found another one. It’s that 15 percent that has me freaking out. I’m about to start school and have a great schedule, but I’m behind in sending for financial aid. My best friend flies in on Wednesday, and though it all ended up working out perfectly last night, I was worried yesterday that a fun plan might fall through. I sometimes need to just breathe and remember that everything usually works out just fine. Usually I’m able to do this. Yesterday I wasn’t. To put it very lightly, I was a grumpy butt all day. Whenever a bad mood hits me, I’m most always able to think positive thoughts & bounce back to my usual chipper self. The fact that I couldn’t made me even more upset. I was a mess, and damnit, I needed to just cry all day. After cuddling and sweet nothings and little kisses didn’t work so well, husband told me he’d be right back and that he was going to check the mail. He didn’t check the mail. He came back with gifts in tow. A pretty little glass swan filled with water and flowers. A new computer mouse, because I was always complaining that the one I had didn’t work. A card picturing a girl in a hospital bed, attached to an iv full of liquor. Inside it read, “Somehow I just know you’ll be feeling better soon!”
Finally, I must mention the bag he decorated and the words he wrote inside of the card. On the bag, he drew a bat. Below the bat, he drew poop with lines above indicating stinky fumes. Underneath he wrote the words, “crazy.” Inside the card he wrote, “I still love you, even if you’re bat shit crazy! Love, Robby.” I laughed and felt my adoration for this boy totally taking over any remnants of a bad mood. This is something he’ll tell me sometimes. I can’t even take it as an insult, because I’ll do something and he’ll just look at me with these love-filled eyes, laugh and say something like, “You are bat-shit crazy, you know that?” Yes. I do know that. And that’s completely okay. Because he knows me. All of me. And loves me, completely. Bat-shit crazy and all.