The dust and grime and dirt from the roof removal (apparently 3 layers of it) has me down. After spending two days and two nights at my parents' house in the suburbs, we came home today.
When the girls went down for their naps, I went upstairs to work in my studio. I had left the window open a crack, and I realized that the dust had creeped in and covered my desk and my serger and sewing machines. I saw the wreckage and quickly turned right back around and headed downstairs.
"I am trying really hard not to lose my s_#@* right now," I said to hubby.
I feel like I am not attached to that many material things, why do the few things I care so deeply about have to get "ruined". I struggled for the next couple hours (and continue to) with that internal battle. "Why does God let bad things happen?" "I know this is a test, why can't I have a good attitude about it?" "I need a stiff drink." "Why am I whining about some stupid piece of plastic and metal?"
Sometimes I am pathetic.
Thankfully, I have a patient and gentle husband.
On to funnier, lighter news: fashion:
this girl is almost edible.