Mushy Brain

Today the snow has melted and we again wore our spring jackets to the bus stop. I have yet to have breakfast and know it needs to come soon as my stomach is yelling at me. The baby in my belly dances and reminds me that I need to take good care of the both of us. My house is silent and I plead for just a few more minutes to let my brain get some words out, as I have been attempting to write a blog post for the past hour. Last week the words were flowing. Today my brain is numb. It spills over with birth stuff and baby stuff and responsible living and life, and none of that is coming together with enough words to help me convey a message.

And so I type. I fell into momentary despair yesterday morning to snow on the ground and memories of crazy dream in which I was trying to order meals at McDonalds. In the dream I was trying, trying, trying with all my might to communicate what I needed, what I wanted, and I was being answered with no service, waiting in line for hours, and indifferent and snickering staff. I got up and wrote to a friend about all the things that are bothering me in my life. My boyfriend got up and I talked and cried over our morning coffee. I got hugs and understanding. My friend emailed me back that all would be well. And indeed it was better. There was a great sense of relief after getting it all off my chest.

I remind myself to be gentle to me today. I feel a little raw around the edges. Time to get some breakfast and coffee. Time to rest. I am going to sit back and relax and watch the cars drive by the front window while listening to some Jack Johnson, then slowly get myself moving to get ready for work this afternoon.

Give yourself a hug for me,