just me, myself, and i.

this morning was weird. there was a thread of wire between me and my words that somehow made everything sound hollow and insincere. or righteous. or convoluted. somehow misconstrued. and it must have been me. b's voice was tinged with irritation and i was defensive. and then i realized it must be me because the kids just plain didn't like me this morning. it's hard when you share an 850 sq ft bungalow with three other humans and you feel like your feelings are bumping into every wall when you are in the room. white sheet on the floor, i bowed my head.

yesterday i was desperate for some alone time. no kids, no husband, no reason other than i needed to be alone with my own thoughts and not have to worry about communicating with anyone else for at least two to three hours. first the car died. and i felt as though the universe was trying to tell me something and i had to tell myself over and over to react as though this was not a big deal. because part of my job is to teach my children that sometimes the universe is an asshole and that is not enough of a reason to be one yourself. so i smiled, walked back in the house and made lunch for the kids while b took the car to get fixed. later, i got my two to three hours and they were decidedly less sumptuous than i had hoped. seems that getting away by myself for a bit of time didn't help all that much. because i was still there.
like i said, it must be me.