I needed to get that big ball of yuck out the other day so that I could physically force myself to work. And once I had, I was mostly ok.
And now I'm properly ok, because I'm doing what I do and trying to do it well.
The house is trashed and the Christmas tree is still up. That part of going to work is depressing me the most. As was dropping off the boy today instead of playing in bed.
But I'm doing good work and I'm enjoying my work. I like talking to people and I like making them better. I like talking to families and seeing the relief when they see that someone cares and that someone is explaining to them what's going on.
The Possum is going well. There are only 2 other children in his room at the moment so he is being spoiled rotten. He said his first word the other night, sitting in my lap looking at Bingley when he waved and started saying DaDaDa. First time Daddy gets to be the first word.
I thought my heart might explode.