Yesterday I was happy. I ran. I had both the boys with me, and both were in a happy, loving mood. I did a lot of work. Good work. I’d finished reading my 36th book of the year, and started a new one. I saw the final episode of season two of ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel‘. I went to sleep, happy.
Today is not as good.
Boy threw up in the night. Then again a few moments ago. This means there’s no running for him (today), or me (this morning).
What’s worse is that I felt a sense of relief on realising that I don’t have to run this morning. This is not a good sign. It’s a very bad sign.
The morning started bad when I drank yesterday’s leftover coffee instead of making a new one today. Then I topped up my blood caffeine levels with a tea. Both of them before 07:30.
At 08:30, I am feeling the too-much-caffeine unease and the boy is feeling post-throwing-up unease. And yet, we aren’t hugging and laying in the bed. I’m working (except for the break to write this status update), and he’s sleeping behind me on the carpet.
Hopefully the pendulum will swing again and we’ll both be on the up by the evening. Paws crossed!