I've been in a bit of a funk lately, and by lately I mean about six months or so. I usually blame my occasional bouts with the blues on spending every day with a person who barely speaks my language; someone who - other than eating and sleeping and watching America's Next Top Model marathons - shares few of the same interests as me; someone who has recently decided that my efforts to cater to his every whim are just not good enough and decides to express his dissatisfaction by acting like a complete and utter boogerhead.
One day last week, the forecast called for a sunny, hot day, with no cloud cover and no chance of rain. This was a departure from the kind of weather we have been having, which has been overcast and soggy and muggy at best. So my first instinct was to run to Target and get a little inflatable swimming pool so that we could take advantage of the warm day, before the weather had a chance to rain on our parade.
Of course, I was mid-mystery-illness last week, and since Alex had a hard time mastering the art of blowing up an inflatable swimming pool, I had to do it myself. Have you ever tried to blow up a five foot wide swimming pool with a sore throat? I would not recommend it. And now, there are about six hundred breaths of mystery-illness cooties swimming around in that thing, and I'm just praying Alex doesn't pop it and release the plague into the world.
Anyway, we finally got the thing blown up, donned our swimming gear, slathered ourselves with sunscreen, and stepped outside. And I don't know, something about the sun beating down and the smell of suntan lotion and having to squint my eyes just to see made me feel like a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. Suddenly, I was in the best mood I had been in for weeks, and it didn't even matter that the first thing Alex did when we got outside was to sit in the mud in his new swimtrunks.
We ended up putting the pool on the deck (despite the warnings on the box that said not to) because the yard is still muddy and gross from all of the rain, and our grass still isn't quite up to par. I let Alex fill up the pool, which he loved and was totally good at, as in he actually kept the hose inside the pool and didn't try to spray me or Murphy with it. We dumped all of his bath toys in and he got in and splashed and dripped water onto my legs as I sat and dangled my feet in. Even Murphy got in and cooled off. It was so fun and relaxing and made me even more excited for the oppressive heat of Dallas summers. Not to mention, we recently applied for membership to Glen Cove Swim Club for this summer and were accepted, so Alex and I can go to the big pool every day if we feel like it. Yay!
We played and played and soaked up every bit of glorious sunshine we could before heading inside for a delicious, summery lunch, and a delicious, summery nap.
I'm no mental health expert, but I'm pretty sure that I suffer from seasonal affective disorder (among other things). Which is unfortunate considering that every day since that wonderful, sunny day last week has been overcast and rainy and awful. And yes, I am miserable and crabby and in desperate need of sunshine. But I am holding out hope that the fog will lift soon, and hopefully for more than one day.