when life knocks you on your ass

Last week was a terrible week. Straight up, no sugar coating, an absolutely terrible week. On Monday, the day started with a migraine and ended with a freak massive flood. I worked until 11pm helping to get the word out, and woke up to the news that the damage to our offices would mean working from home for the rest of the week. This might usually be a good thing, but I was on call for most of it, some days as early as 6am and always well into the evening. The lack of sleep kept my migraine friend around, and I spent Tuesday taking calls and writing emails with my head over the toilet.

Not fun.

The on call thing also meant I needed to be by a computer at all times, so leaving the house wasn't in the cards. I live alone, and it wasn't long before the stir crazy navel gazing set in. And what could help that situation out more than some unexpected and surprisingly painful news from your ex? Nothing, it seems. Nothing could.

By Friday, I have to admit, I was done. Just done. I woke up, shuffled into my kitchen, and grabbed a bottled smoothie out of the fridge. When I shook it the cap flew right off, spraying deep blue acai juice all over the fridge, all over the counters, all over my kilim rug. All over me.

For a minute, I just stood there. It truly felt, in that moment, like that juice was shit, and that bottle was life.

And I cried.

I don't know why I'm sharing all of this. I don't have any wise words or beautiful lessons-learned all wrapped up in a bow. I know these problems, in the grand scheme of things, aren't that big, and that I have so much to be thankful for. But for some reason it felt a bit dishonest to post pretty pictures of kitchens today. I just wanted to be real, in part because I know that I appreciate it so much when other bloggers do the same. When they show us their battle wounds and their scars. When they take a pause from the sparkly and shiny to show us the muck.

Because we all have muck, right? Not everything can be brass and marble kitchens, or leopard pumps and statement jewels, or perfectly plumped pillows and expertly laid tables....not everything can be so clean. And that's ok, right? I mean, it has to be.

Hope you all had better luck than I did this past week, and that we all will in the one coming up. Big kisses. I'm going to go pull up my boot straps now.

xoxoxo