I rolled in it. So what

I wrote about my bad mood and bad attitude yesterday. It felt a little like I was rolling around in the mud, getting good and covered, feeling it ooze out between my toes, clump up in my hair, even crunch down on some grit in my molars once in a while.

I think that bad mood needed validation because I feel so much better today even though absolutely nothing else has changed.

But I’m generally not allowed to gripe, moan, complain, vent, or bitch. I’m supposed to roll with the punches and keep on smiling. Usually I can. But lately it has been getting harder to smile and I wasn’t sure why. The thing is, these punches, they actually knock me out, flat into the mud. Each time I drag myself back up and keep limping along. But for a little while, I’m going to stay down here and roll around in this mud. Stop hiding.

I can’t exactly go on strike, but I can lighten my load a little while I stay here and make mudpies. I’m supposed to go to an awards banquet tonight. I’ve been so worried how to handle it, how to smile for that long, how to pay attention and get out of conversation I don’t want to be in…screw it. No one needs me to eat chicken tonight. My husband can go without me while I make mud angels.

I think if I embrace this dank muddy place I’m in, instead of trying to hide from it, I’ll be much better off. Besides. Mud can be really great. Think hot springs and mud masks. Mud wrestling? Well…not my thing but hey some people like it. Adobe houses. Clay pottery. Yeah. I’m just going to stay here in my deep dark pit and see what happens if I stare at it directly.

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