The weather is cloudy and cold.
Did you have to write the “morning news” every day in first grade? Simple sentences like the ones above? I did. I hated it. Yet, I still use this skill, apparently.
It’s lifeless robotic writing. That’s how I felt today.
I struggled to get everyone out of the house to get the Adventurer to her class on Ancient Greece. We drove over the bridge out of town, over the frozen lake.
It’s wasn’t at all beautiful.
As I drove through my favorite little Connecticut town, looking out over the hills and fields, I felt nothing.
No humor. No awe at the sights. Are you depressed yet?
And as we pulled into town, the Adventurer asked me to turn around. She said she didn’t feel like going to class. She wasn’t feeling well. Can you take me home?
We’re meeting friends, I told her. We are almost there. Do you know how much negotiating went in to getting your sister into the car?
“Why can’t you respect the PMS?”
She just wanted to curl up on the couch with a book and eat chocolate (don’t we all?). But that would require me to respect the PMS.
I had already promised her sisters a trip to the good library. I told her I respected the PMS and would take her home in an hour.
When I finally went to check out the stack of books they chose, I was told that I owed an ungodly amount of late fees. This is where homeschooling gets expensive.
You see, I tried to pay these fees at my library months ago, but they said that they updated their computer system and my fees magically vanished. But in this library, those fees were still on the record.
I take out my debit card.
They only accept cash or checks.
My girls are looking at me like starving orphans when they realize that they can’t take home the books they spent an hour choosing.
Still, I feel nothing. It’s the winter numbness. It has settled deep in my soul. I don’t get mad. I don’t get upset. I don’t curse the technology that reminded me how irresponsible I am when it comes to returning books on time.
I ask the nice librarian to hold our books for ten minutes while I run around in the cold to find an ATM.
I end up driving around, because even though the library is in the middle of the cute little downtown, the ATM is not.
Thirty minutes later, my debt to the library gods paid, we’re heading home. We drive back over the frozen lake which is just as ugly as it was earlier.
At home, the Adventurer collapses dramatically into her favorite spot on the couch with her book and computer. I make coffee.
See, today is Monday. The weather is cloudy and cold. It’s invading my spirit. It’s infecting me. Is there a cure for this?
Thinking Google might have an answer, I go to my computer. This is what I find.
I melted, just a little.
Does anyone in your life respect your PMS? Have you ever thought to demand it?
And does anyone have a house in Florida to lend me for a couple of weeks? I need the sun!