I can't be the only one whose job satisfaction sometimes swings on a wild pendulum. I can't decide what wears me out more: the hard, bad days or the swinging back and forth itself.
But one less-than-stellar day at work can't even make me this tired.
Maybe it was Landon choking in a restaurant, and as adrenaline shot through me, not a single solitary person even acknowledged our plight. Not while I was shaking him, hitting his back or pressing on his chest. Not when he finally dislodged whatever it was that had caused him to stop breathing and eyes to start watering. Not when the fright of it caused him to cry pretty loudly after he could breathe again. And not when I struggled to balance the tray of our food, and him, back to the pick-up counter so they could box it up to-go.
Really, people? Nobody has even a nod in my direction with a sympathetic smile? I teared up a little in the car--which isn't really like me.
But watching Landon play in the tub, demonstrate his new-found zipper skills on his pjs, and point out all the nouns he knows in our bedtime story soothed me a bit. He snuggled into my lap like he knew I could use a hug.
Bill will be back from his class camping trip tomorrow. And I'll be glad. Realizing how glad hurts, because I am never too many thoughts away from my friend whose husband died last month. Bill has only been gone a day. And already I've used the phrase "circling the drain." I really must be tired.