Ever have one of those weeks where you feel like you’re winning at life? Yeah, me neither. I mean, occasionally, a few hours here or there. On rare occasions when the moon aligns with Jupiter and it’s an odd-numbered day in an even-numbered month and the wind blows only from the West I might sometimes have a whole day that feels like that.
This past week was basically the opposite. I must have dropped a million things. I didn’t work out even once. I weigh as much now as I did when seven months pregnant with Zoey. After a night of horrid insomnia and very little sleep I showed up to work five hours (!!!) earlier than I needed to. (Read: I had childcare at home and could have been sleeping and/or crossing a LOT of things off of my To Do List).
Then I bumped a curb on a narrow road, completely blowing out one of the tires on our van. One of the practically brand new, fancy-shmancy “Run Flat” tires. That are not covered by warranty. That cost a small fortune to replace. That require leaving the van at Toyota for an entire day just to replace a tire because, of course, it’s Saturday and they are packed and, of course, it would take five days for Les Schwab to special order and receive those kinds of tires.
Yup, winning at life.
Screw what the scale says. Bring me some chocolate and wine because I’m in survival mode now.