Tag Archives: Life in Less than 300 Words

What a Difference a Few Months Make

4 Apr

A few months ago I was home, sick and suffering from S.A.D. with no motivation, no gumption, no old-fashioned get up and go to make me get off the couch. All I did was sit there and watch Grey’s Anatomy from season one on and feel like moving was the most anyone could ask of me that day.

The last few days I’ve been sick. I’ve been home watching Grey’s anatomy, season five. I haven’t moved, nor gotten off the couch save to get myself food, but the difference…ahhh…the difference is amazing. I’m here because I’m sick and drained of energy, not because I can’t move because I’m paralyzed by depression. The medication worked. Exercise worked. It’s less than three months later, and I feel like I have my life back. Like I’m me again. Thank God for that, because my couch was beginning to have a permanent dent.

More tomorrow, thanks for reading!

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Big Dogs Don’t Cry

14 Mar

My littlest dog hates it when I cry.

We found this out by accident one day. I don’t remember what I was crying about, probably something to do with S.A.D. probably. And Martigan just freaked out. He started trying to crawl into my lap (which he is NOT allowed to do without an invitation, but he really isn’t much of a lap dog anyway) and when that didn’t work, he licked any part of my hands and feet he could reach. When I did let him up, he kept trying to lick my nose until I stopped crying. It was like he was trying to cheer me up.

It’s funny, because he doesn’t mind it if I’m upset. A and I can be mad at each other all day and he doesn’t blink an eye. But turn on the water works and he can’t take it. It’s also funny because he can’t tell the difference between tears of sadness and tears of mirth. I was reading a particularly funny post from STFU Parents, and was laughing so hard that I started to cry. Same thing, the climbing, the licking, the worried look that didn’t go away until my tears dried up.

Honestly, it warms my heart. I don’t know the real reason he does it, but I like to think he just wants to cheer me up when I’m sad. And with that face, how could I not be?

…unlike some fat little dogs I could mention who don’t care how much I cry, so long as I toss him his ball.

Running With Dr. Seuss

1 Mar

I learned to read on Dr. Seuss books. His rhymes hold simple truths and wisdom that are simple enough for children to memorize. I’ve loved this quote for a long time, but something about seeing it represented so visually, connected to my personal mountain – running – makes it even more powerful. This is my new life motto:

image from motivationintohabit on tumblr

 

Do you use pictures to motivate yourself? Quotes? What’s motivating you today?

Mid-February

16 Feb

It’s that time again. Sometime around mid-February I see the weight of the season settle on my man’s shoulders like a bag being slowly filled with sand. He comes home, his walk from the car a little slower. The look on his face when he enters our home – his refuge, his sanctuary – tells me he’s needing more, that the long hours over a longer stretch of days is starting to wear him thin. When he leans into my neck as I reach out for a hug, sinks into my ready kiss, I know that he sees home each time he rests his eyes, weary from seeing patterns in numbers.

My man, the accountant. The provider. My hero.

He works so that we can build a life. So that I can have options. So we can plan a future. He loves what he does, true, but months of all work and little play gets old quickly. He’s proud of his work, and comes home with stories of conquering mountains of tax law. My weary conqueror.

Sometime in February I can expect that he’ll need more hugs, more time lingering over a good meal and a glass of wine, more priority placed on the little time we can call our own. Sundays are off-limits to everything except church. My dutiful man, who makes time for the laundry and still does the dishes, sometimes a day late, but they’re done just the same. He knows that, unlike years past, I have a full plate as well and pulls his weight. My partner, my helpmate.

In February I make sure my bosom is extra soft to catch his weary head; my embrace is extra warm to last him until he comes home again. I miss him, and cherish each bit I get.

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