As I write this I am constantly smelling poo. I'm not sure if it's my imagination. Or the dog. Or the two-year-old. Or the thirty-something woman who had really poo sort of day and it just is sort- stuck to me. I sit down and look at some of the blogs I like to read. At the pretty pictures and the even prettier writing. I try to press out all the negative words from a hard day at work. All the failures and frustrations. But. All I still smell is poo.
I try to reimagine the day but that gets me nowhere but more frustrated. What if the poo smell I'm smelling is dirt? I came from work to my little square of earth called home to my delightful little family all out in the backyard. With a brand new tilled square ready for seeds. And more rows so the kids could plant some of their own. We doled out seeds in cups to them and off they went scattering them willy-nilly and I sat and scooped deep brown earth ontop of it all and patted it for good measure. Maybe it's the earth I'm smelling. Maybe it's the best part of my day still lingering slightly. This was of course before they melted down in hunger and little noses covered in snot had to be rubbed and little boy about chokes on rice of all things while little girl gets part of an apple peel stuck in her teeth in just such a miraculous way that cannot possible be recovered and... and... I feel like I'm back at work. For my day at work was full of worst of awful and just when I would start to have hope that something would go right finally, sadly, no. It didn't.
So I come to a room. To try and shove out the world and sit for a moment and rest. And the poo remains. Earth poo, dog poo, kid poo, work poo. Who knows.
My sweet husband offers to read the bible to me. Something he's been doing these last couple weeks as I had a wretched sinus infection that I think may have been sucking what's left of my frazzled brain right out my nose. We sit in chairs and read about Moses leading a rabble of whiners and I do my best to keep my whining down for long enough to let him finish. Than I get out of my tent and grumble all the way to get the manna and start the day all over. Maybe. Maybe tomorrow won't be a poo day.