A friend asked if my tears were the cathartic kind or the depressed kind. I'm not sure. I think they are the "I'm miserably frustrated with my life at the moment" kind. And my mistakes are making the frustration worse -- and often it's my mistakes that are causing the tears.
After making Hubby breakfast this morning, I plopped myself down at the computer and spent six hours working through the midterm. Oh, it's not finished. Not yet. But I've got a handle on it. I just need to ask the speech pathologist a couple of questions and review my answers and I'm ready to "submit." I know I've missed one question completely -- and possibly many more, but the truth is, at this point, I don't much care. I just want a B out of the thing.
While I was dragging my ass through the test, Hubby spent the afternoon cooking. We now have a lovely pork rib roast all seasoned with garlic and non-salt herbs for the week ahead. Even better is a wonderful pan of rice pudding that is so fragrant and creamy that two bowls were called for after a heaping plate of pork. Good food does help one feel more mellow, I must admit.