It's raining... ...and it's not the rain I like, which is the take-the-skin-off-your-back rain with hair on it's chest and fire in it's belly. The kind that sounds like there's a small army of steel toed tap-dancers on acid doing an electric boogaloo on your roof.
But no, it's that half-hearted, snivelly sort of drizzle that can't quite decide if it's going to fade dully into fog or just find a quiet corner in a field and die of boredom.
So there's crap rain going on.
Then there's the coffee jar. I keep an old coffee jar for chucking in those annoying copper coins that rattle around your purse and make it hard to find the real money. This morning I upended that coffee jar, took the contents into the bank, and changed it to cash to help us buy bread and milk for the rest of the month. Even the church-mice shed a tear.
So I should be wailing and gnashing my teeth all the way to the loan shark to sell him a kidney.
But I feel unaccountably happy and serene. I don't normally question feeling happy...I just enjoy it, but this just didn't add up. I wondered if my anti-depressants had been souped up by a renegade pharmacist, hell-bent on making the world a happier place. I wondered if I had become so jaded by life that I had succumbed to some giant happy delusion just to help me cope. I questioned if I had finally overdosed on tea, leading to a delightful loss of grip on reality.
But it's none of that. As I drove into town this morning I thought of the marriage vows Bob's Dad and I took over 14 years ago, and remembered how we promised to be there for each other for better or for worse.
Well, I guess this is a "worse" bit (autism, miscarriage, depression etc. notwithstanding *cough*...okay, so there may have been some other difficult times as well), and we're still a strong couple. I can't believe I'm saying this with a straight face, but love really is all that matters.
After all these years of trying hard to be grumpy old cynic, it took a recession and a few of life's hard knocks to bring out the romantic in me.
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