You know the days that just don't go as planned. You are in a funk and you just can’t shake it.
You are excited for the weekend, and it goes Ok. A birthday party, a lunch date with the bestie that you haven’t seen in forever, a trip to babies r us. All happiness and sunshine.
Sometimes, I don’t know why, but I get in a funk. I am crabby to Chris. I run around the house like a maniac, wiping every crumb, cleaning every dish, and complaining about the state of our affairs. Sweet hubby retracts invitation to go on a nature walk with the kiddos. Takes him by himself, and leaves me in my funk. I just have those days sometimes. I guess the kids do too, so we are all entitled every once in a while.
Then as the fog starts to clear, and I decide that a run in the crisp air is just what I need. I take off through the neighborhood. “I’m just going up to the light and back.” From our door it is 3.1 miles. perfect run in a short amount of time. Then a dog on a leash decides he doesn’t like the way I am running, I guess. He jumps up and bites my arm. Not kidding. It really happened.
Everyone is fine. Arm is bruised, welted up, and sore. But fine.
I think it mainly scared me, and made me glad that it wasn’t little Ellie in her stroller, or something worse.
One report to the animal control, and all is going to be ok.
But, when it is all said and done, Chris and I both found it pretty funny, that after my moody day even the sweet poodle dog decided he didn’t like me.
Maybe he could tell I was in a funk?
Off now to conquer the never ending playhouse…two walls done, two to go…
send me your crafting juju please!!