I worked most of yesterday but went to Emerg at lunch to have my hand looked at. It was still quite swollen, and though I could make a fist & see the knuckles, it occurred to me that a bone in the back of my hand may be broken. It wasn't, just deeply bruised. My own fault, I don't expect sympathy for that.
I'm not normally a hitter/thrower. I don't generally act out/speak in anger because it is apart always just hurtful and unproductive. Case in point.
The puppies have been a lovely distraction and comfort.
I called in a personal day today; not to wallow, just try to clear my head and not have to put on a happy face.
I've had stretches of wry him out and not dwelling, then a memory comes out of nowhere, stabs me in the back, and reduces me to tears. I know that the stretches will become longer and the memories more sweet than bitter, but it's gut-wrenching at the mo.
But I've been through worse. I'll get through this.
Almost done the Bernat baby blanket.
Time for a walk.
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