The day started at an ungodly hour--- 6:45 am--- with the Hethan crawling into bed with us. Fortunately for the child, I am a morning person and wake up fairly quickly. So I did not shove him out of bed or anything else.
Made it to work, and Ear Wax boy was back. He was in a fine mood, and his new medication is actually working. He made it through circle time without an outburst---a record, I do believe. Had to leave work to get Hethan cough medicine. Boy has a horrid cough, but no fever. So you know?
One of my closest friends called me this afternoon. She is four weeks behind where I was pregnancy wise, and she had her ultrasound today. She's having a boy. Our boys would have been a month apart. A month. Her oldest daughter and my Hethan are friends, and he's even proposed to her. She said yes. We'll see if it stands up in 20 years :) Anyhow, it was a bittersweet moment. I am very happy that she and her husband are finally getting a boy (they have two girls), yet I cannot help but be bitter that I will not be having a baby in June.
At the therapist's today, he said that crying was a healing process. I cried a lot today. I hope it healed me some. Because even after I went to the Y and did more than I've ever done before on the elliptical machine, I still wanted to scream, still wanted to throw something, hit someone, cry, run, something. Instead, I settled for screaming on the inside.
So now I've gone to Meijer, and bought things for the household that I am helping to organize. I bought stuff for my classroom. I bought stuff for my hair. Retail therapy didn't really help a whole lot. Oh well.
But salty chips and a Mike's Light might at least help me sleep tonight, right? And tomorrow, I will do some time on the elliptical and the treadmill while Hethan is at tumbling.
And if my voice cannot scream, then my body will, dammit. I will push myself. I will work myself. I will exhaust my body. I will spend some time not thinking, simply doing and sweating. My muscles will cry out for mercy and I will not give any. I will not make it any easier on my body than it is on my spirit.
If it sounds harsh, insane, mean, worrisome--- it's not. I am actually fairly moderate in my exercising. But when I need to forget who I am, what I've done, what I'm doing, where I've been, where I am, where I'm going, what I'm rhinking, I work out hard. I push myself on a normal day, yes, but that's the name of the game. But on bad days, I punish myself. I must. But then it's done. I promise.
Tomorrow's another day. And I'm thirsty anyway. So bring on the rain.
I want a windy, warm, thunderstorm. Unfortunately, it's cold right now. Sigh. Have a good day.