Good and Bad.
Bad: The car needs to be repaired.
Good: I have insurance, which will pay for the repair.
Bad: I have a $500. deductable.
Bad: I apologized to the guy who hit me. He never said anything back. The more I dwell on it, the angrier I get at myself. I apologize all the time and it irks me. I had no control over the situation. He hit me. I had visions of what I would have done differently- stepped on the gas to move my car out of the way (which I couldn't do because that would have put me into possible oncoming traffic), honked, yelled...anything. *Sigh*
Good: I got my first commission check from Cafepress sales.
Bad: It's going towards the deductable.
Good: I also added new items to the shop.
Bad: Jack had nightmares all night last night.
Bad: He wouldn't let me comfort him, but wouldn't let me leave the room either.
Bad: I'm 33, and shouldn't be sleeping on the floor of anyone's bedroom.
Bad: My body feels like it got hit by a Mack Truck.
Bad: I have spinning class today, but I'm not going because my kid got about 5 hours of sleep last night and is acting like a little terror. I'm waiting for his head to fly off or turn around while spitting pea soup everywhere.
Good: I love my kid even when he's a terror.
Bad: I had to rip out all 17 rows of the front of the Fair Isle vest. It was 5+ days of work. But it's my fault. I didn't re-read the directions, just started a K1P1 rib, instead of the called for K2, P2 rib. I suck. It's making this project seem like a mountain that I'm never going to summit, with the time limit looming and my wrist being a bitch.
Good: Even with the ripping, I still think it's a beautiful project.
Bad: I gained 2 pounds over the weekend.
Good: All but 4 ounces of it are gone already.
Bad: I'm still craving chocolate.
Bad: We don't have any.
Today I'm going to focus on turning all of the bads into goods. Yes, I'm overtired. Yes, I just want to go back to bed and not face today. Instead I'm going to get my self to the gym, sweat a bit, then start to deal with the crap going on.
Btw, the guy who it me works in the same building as the gym. How often do you think I'm going to bump into him?...pun not intended, of course.
ETA: The Boy's been acting "off" all morning. I thought it was lack of sleep. He wouldn't eat his lunch, which is really off. So I took his temp- 102 degrees. Ugh. Guess I'm heading to the pediatrician's instead of the gym. Craptastic!