I actually just checked to see where Mercury was. That’s how bad my mood has been the last couple of days. Irrationally short, ridiculously emotional, frustration at power-keg in a hot July levels. It’s a lot of fun, let me tell you. My family is especially loving having mom just start crying. Or yelling at the dogs. Or stomping upstairs for who-knows-what this time.
I recognize my own ill-temper and current wickedly-short fuse. But being able to see it ain’t the same as being able to grab the wheel and gently steer my careening emotions safely back to the center of the road.
Is this the beginning of menopause? Holy hell, I hope not–I mean, not that I mind menopause—I’m fixed, so there hasn’t been any desire for childbearing for a long time. But I kind of really just hope this is stress and being on lock-down for…192 days. It’s been 192 days since I entered a building not my house? Yeah. It’s been 192 days since I hugged a friend, or chose my own groceries. It’s been 203 days since I saw any of my professors or study group other than through this computer screen. I hate being dependent on others. (Add all the caveats about knowing we are fortunate, because I do, and we are.)
Anyway. It’s a wild ride right now, and I can’t say as I’m enjoying it. All this is to acknowledge that some days are hard. Some seasons are hard. The Zora Neale Hurston quote “There are years that ask questions, and years that answer.” is always somewhere close to me. It’s always given me comfort. I wish I knew what kind of this year is.