I hate disappointment. I hate being disappointed more than being steaming mad (which Pretty Mary K can tell you does happen). Anyways, I had a little bit of a disappointing week. Nothing earth shattering (the roof did not cave in, that song is STUCK in my head), but something didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. Although...there is a glimmer of hope that it just might turn out better than I ever expected. For now, I'm a little dejected, a little disappointed, and trying to be a little hopeful. Yeah, yeah...I know "things work out the way they're supposed to..." and all that. I believe it too. Sometimes I just have to remind myself through brute force though.
So, I'm off to throw myself a pity party on the treadmill. Then, I'm going to irradiate myself in the cancer box and pretend I'm at the beach. Whatever it takes, right?
P.S. I've crossed from disappointed to mad that it looks like this ALL the time! Come back to me sunshine! I neeeeeeed you.