My children have lived in their underwear eating Ramen noodles and watching the forbidden "Family Guy" unchecked.
In two weeks I may have ruined them.
This morning my refrigerator broke, and I sat around slurping melting ice cream and crying over all the lost groceries, and the expense of a new fridge, and generally just feeling tired and sorry for myself. Then I opened my email and read the headlines. Death in Norway, Amy Winehouse (supposedly) dead of an overdose at 27, economic dissapointment, kids with leukemia, and well...suddenly my refrigerator didn't seem like such a big deal.
So I spent the rest of the day cleaning house, and baking cookies, and kissing boo boos, and drinking unknown potions they concocted for me, and I felt really lucky. I am doing what I wanted to do... writing, and even making some money for it, playing with my kids who are alive and healthy (Well, not as much as before the Ramen, but basically.)
And lo and behold my fridge started magically working again, and I'm not going to question it.
I'm back on air...feeling refreshed and generally under the grace of some pretty good karma. I'm back to the grind, but it's a good grind.
Now if only I had some ice cream left.