. . . something happened when I turned 33. I know it was thirty-three. I just remember the year. Suddenly, I felt achy and old and tired. Not me. I thought I had a thyroid problem. But no. It was nothing medical, just a redefined new normal for me.
And now, I think it's happening again.
Partly. And probably, I'm just a little unsettled right now.
I'm having surgery tomorrow. I really don't want to, however, I know it's necessary and I keep clinging to the silver lining and the "things will be better when it's over" line. Still . . . the simple truth remains. I don't want to do a bowel prep. I don't want to have parts ripped from me, regardless of whether or not I really need them anymore. I don't want to feel groggy and in pain. I just don't want to.
To add insult to injury, I tweaked my back on Monday. The kind of thing that just hurts . . . all over achy, difficult to change positions, can't get comfortable, and it makes me kind of cranky. Damn. And because I'm having surgery tomorrow, I can't take ibuprofen or naproxyn to help with pain. So, I'm hobbling around trying to make it through the day with no pain meds or something left on board from the night before. Ick. Yuck. Blah.
Suffice it to say, I'll be glad when it's over.
Planning this ginormous Fall Festival at school is on my plate and there is A LOT to it. Like, holy crap, A LOT. It's consuming me
Work . . . . heavy sigh. Just a heavy sign. It's so good and so bad all at the same time. That's all I can say. And give another heavy, long, sign.
Kids are great . . . kids are great . . . kids are great . . . . I think they are keeping me from truly falling to pieces right now. Thank God for the direction and tasks and busyness that they provide. Just thank God.