What a diff’rence a day makes…
I’m feeling much better this morning. Not quite ready to sing and dance my way around the apartment, but I’m not suffering the crushing depression I felt last week.
I actually felt better on Saturday morning that I do today. Until I sliced my thumb open instead of the onion I was holding. I’d been invited to a cookout for friends of The Empty Closet and as late as bedtime Friday, I was planning to blow it off and stay home.
After I got the bleeding stopped, it took everything I had to clean up, start over again with another onion and finish the macaroni salad I’d been making. It took the bloom off the entire day and sent me to the couch for the rest of the morning and all of the afternoon.
I barely made it out of the shower in time for my ride that evening. Then I tore the wound open again while toweling off and nearly used that as an excuse to stay home.
Sunday I felt sick all day. Almost hungover. I had a headache that just wouldn’t go away no matter how much ibuprofen and acetaminophen I threw at it. And nausea that didn’t leave me until bedtime. I had a sudden craving for eggs, sunny-side up and that seemed to do the trick. Perhaps my cholesterol level had gotten too low.
I’d planned to use Sunday to redo my closet. Between time and money—or rather, an absence of each—I’ve lived here ten weeks with a closet too full to even remove any clothes. I had two rods of clothes compressed on to one rod, and what didn’t fit inside the closet, was on the floor under the bed. I’ve worn the same things over-and-over just because I couldn’t get to anything else.
I forced aside enough of the headache and nausea to work on the closet. But it took over six hours to just empty it, move one rod, install a second and put everything back. I’ve still not completely cleaned-up after the job.
This morning’s mood change is a welcome respite from the past seven days. I’m hoping it signals a change for the better, not just a brief high spot in an otherwise dismal day (or worse, week.)
