Here I am.
Ever-so-slowly peering out from my black hole of groggy sickness and blahs.
Although usually a foreign concept to me, there's been a piercing silence on the blog lately. And if you haven't noticed, well, I've been in a rut. I don't even think I've opened my computer once in the last 2 weeks. And *gasp*, I'm pretty sure I've taken a total of 3 pictures of Chunkin the last two weekends. Thanks to two rounds of icky respiratory crud, I just haven't had much energy for anything really. Especially not blogging. In fact, the thought of blogging has made me nearly burst into tears.
Ok. That's a lie. I haven't had the energy to burst into tears.
Oh the winter blahs. I say winter because until this past weekend, Kansas did not get the memo that it is March.
But this particular case of the blahs has been all-consuming for the past several weeks. And I'm not so sure I have an acceptable excuse for letting things get so murky. But there's been clear evidence of a dark, bulging rain cloud hovering over our household. Partly due to the terrible weather, partly due to some personal decisions and happenings, but mostly due to sickness. And tagging along with sickness has been exhaustion, thanks to a toddler who suddenly started waking through the night. So, I haven't been the only one in the family resembling that of a zombie lately.
My poor family. They've been real sports about my whole slacking on life thing. Somehow, they've survived on chicken noodle soup, grilled cheese, or anything else that has 3 or fewer ingredients. Of course Lyla has been consuming an obscene amount of "ta-ta's" {crackers}, while I've been snacking on an embarrassing amount of cottage cheese. I don't know, something about it is comforting when it's been less than 40 degrees outside for over thirty consecutive days. Odd, I'm aware. But comforting nonetheless.
And speaking of slacking, let's talk about my after-work uniform as of late. The moment I walk in the door from picking up Lyla from daycare, and not a second later, the pants come off, sweatpants go on, and I find the fuzziest socks I own. May not see so ridiculous, except I haven't had the energy to change my work shirt as well. So, the uniform consists of baggy sweatpants paired with a work blouse. And of course the fuzzy socks. My husband is one lucky man.
But as of this week, it finally looks like we've made it to the other side. So if I've completely rained on your parade with my story of gloom, there is light up ahead! And though they may be little slivers, my eyelids are slowly adjusting. Because you see, my cough has gone from a rattle to more of a subtle clearing of the throat. Lyla is feeling better everyday and starting to sleep again. But most importantly, my friends, the sun has started shining. And when the sun shines, my soul is alive.
Please tell me I'm not the only one who gets stuck in the ho-hum-drum of life. And winter. And sickness. And work. And the same old, same old.
But here I am, trying to get back into the swing of blogging. Writing what's on my mind. And although there may be nothing but sludge at the moment, I can feel myself awakening. Life is coming back to me.
It's amazing what a little sunshine can do. I might even start wearing real pants after work.
But probably not.
Recovery nap time with my best gal
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