I mean that. It’s slightly black (and blue).
When he was sick the first time around and was having a severe coughing fit, I ran up the stairs to help him in a panic. My boot caught the stairs, and I twisted my leg, re-injuring my healing runner’s knee from the summer. (Don’t ask me how in the hell I got runner’s knee in the summer; I’m not a runner…only on occasion do I hop on the treadmill and pretend to be one). Nevertheless, I’ve been nursing this thing back to life over the last two weeks.
Yesterday, it was feeling better. The knee was making tremendous progress.
However, at midnight last night, he had a coughing fit again, and I tore up the stairs to assist him. You guessed it: I inadvertently tore my knee again.
The two of us are a bloody mess in this house. And Christmas is days away. Some of you have seen my FB posts and Tweets and have read that I’ve done relatively no shopping for the big day at all.
To make matters even worse, my novel–the one I had high hopes of getting “out there” by now–has been pushed to the back-burner due to all this drama, so I’m feeling like I didn’t hit a self-imposed deadlines.
I hate missing deadlines. Even when they are my own.
I hate missing graduation. I want to hug my students, congratulate them, and wish them well.
So today, when I should be happy and cheerful because Christmas is around the corner, all I feel is anxious (about my son), annoyed (about my knee), overwhelmed (about Christmas shopping and prepping my novel), and to add fuel to the fire, I have absolutely no idea what to make for dinner.
Yesterday, I wrote a blog post about “It’s A Wonderful Life” and its lessons. I might need to go reread that. It feels like I wrote it years ago.
Anyway, the conclusion is this: I’ve decided to mope around for the rest of the day and imagine (again) that tomorrow morning we will all be feeling better.