Today, I witnessed a miracle . . .
After a long day of feeling like Oscar the Grouch, I would normally have retired to the couch with a Large Diet Coke and a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese. I have no idea why I felt like punching someone in the face or bawling my eyes out. Yes, it was Monday; but it wasn't a bad Monday. I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed as they say.
The day only got better from there . . .
We were supposed to be at the gym at 6:30pm. Normally, it wouldn't be that big of a deal; but I had other people expecting me to be. (Nancy and Shirley - shout out!). When we didn't leave the house until after 6:30pm, I was getting more and more irritated by the minute. Still, I was resolute in going to the gym.
And it still gets better . . .
I know I'm obsessive. Yeah, not the shocker of the day, I know. Every time we leave the house, I ask Philip, "Do you have your wallet and keys?" Every time he sighs and says, "Yes." Tonight was no different, except for when Philip went to lock the deadbolt; I saw it in his eyes. He didn't have the keys. Needless to say, I was not nice about it. I was so mad I could have spit acid. It was just the shit frosting on my turd cupcake of a day. It would have been very easy to call my friends, tell them I was locked out of the house, and skip the gym.
Here's where the miracle happens . . .
I didn't call. I didn't cancel. Luckily, I had a car key. Full of piss and vinegar, I barreled towards the gym. My poor, poor patient and sweet hubby, I'm surprised he didn't die from exposure. I was massively frigid. An hour later, I had sweated out my frustrations and all the angry and depressed feelings that had ate away at me all day. I left the gym feeling stronger - feeling happier - feeling thankful.
And yes, I did apologize to that wonderfully sweet husband of mine for being a hormonal bee-otch.