I had no idea how much it was possible to cry. Not in one go or anything, but over basically anything. In the last 48 hours I have cried because:
The sandwich bar we went to for lunch didn’t have gluten free bread readily available.
My husband isn’t psychic.
I remembered to wash the kids martial arts kit. They didn’t notice
A cushion cover got ruined in the tumble dryer.
I can’t just jack in my job and make daft craft projects for a living.
My neighbour bought me flowers.
My children talked over dinner non stop about inane YouTubers.**
The cat would’t sit on my knee.
There were no balloons or homemade cake for my birthday.
You get the drift. I have cried at at basically everything. Not full on snot face tears, but eyes brimming and filling up. The sort of cry that can be dismissed if you turn away. I feel like that glass of water in Jurassic Park as the T-Rex stops closer, perilously close to spilling over with every shake of the ground. Except I have no T-Rex, I have just normal life with no dinosaurs.*
I wonder how much water there can be inside me. This much AT LEAST:
My tear ducts could certainly do with an all expenses paid trip to recover.
Good grief! I am projecting my issue so hard now, that even my tear ducts are in recovery!
I don’t feel perpetually miserable. Most of the time I am fine.
No really, I am actually fine. That picture just made me laugh. Maybe now all my emotions are just running really close to the surface, and instead of drowning them in wine I am having to deal with the pesky blighters. If you see me all teared up, don’t worry. If I really need help, (or a hug) I will ask for it.
*I wonder if there were dinosaurs if it would be like the Zombie apocalypse, and us runners would last longer than those who don’t own decent escape wear? (trainers)
** This is not bitching about my kids. This is just what they do. Its usually fine.