It's 9:30 and I'm only now writing my blog. Usually I'm up writing before 6 and have the days post published by 6:30. But ...
you ever have one of those mornings ...
where molassas runs in your veins
where tying a shoe is a challenge
where having a conversation that doesn't turn into a fight is difficult
where you are living at the edge of sanity ...
it was one of those mornings.
I checked the calander four or five times to make sure that it was Monday, that I had to go to work, that I didn't have the option of crawling back into bed and crying. But it was Monday. I have meetings today. Things to do, people to see.
Arriving at the office I grumbled as I got out of the car. Who the hell thought up this idea of working for money. Please.
But coming in the door and being surrounded by people talking, working, laughing ... doing things of import. Sitting down at my desk with the phone ringing already and the message light flashing.
It matters that I got up.
How lucky is that?