Okay, so maybe it's not that bad; I might not be gone that long. But I recently discovered leaks in my roof which are causing me stress (something about ice dams compromising metal roof joints. Who da'thunk?). And stress is really not the word for it. Heart failure, maybe? Despair? Tunnel-vision where I've yet to see the light? I'm not sure. But right now it's all I can muster to make a living and take care of my children (Last night that I-am-mamma-so-everything-will-be-okay-because-I-can-manage-it facade slipped from my face and I began to cry. It was a weep-fest and we all cried together. --I'm still feeling guilty for letting my children in on that little secret--I CANNOT manage it all).
Whatever doesn't kill you, right?