What A Difference A Day Makes...

...or maybe a year. Last year at this time I was on the beach in Hawaii. Today I'm excited about leaving my house.

Sigh.

I know. I know that I'm lucky to have a good job that almost pays the bills, and that I have a savings account to cover the rest for now. But I'm tired of having to think about it. I'm tired of having to make choices and thinking of the "what ifs", and it makes me want to not be at home, because when I'm not there I don't think so much about it. And then I'm guilty, because my husband has been at home for 10 months, thinking the same thoughts every day, but he has nowhere to escape to get away from them. And I feel bad when I don't want to be there, because it has nothing to do with him and the last thing I want him to think is that I'm trying to get away from him. It's the situation that I want to leave.

I want everything back the way it was. The days have turned into weeks and months and nothing has changed. Every time it looks like it might, something dumb happens and we're back to square one. But at some point it will change, and I just hold on to that, whatever it means.

I just hope it means another beach vacation someday soon, because I want to have fun again.