It was a lot of wonderful things all at once, with one very significant sandyb-style break-down, which I’ll dish about in a momento.
For years, I’ve wanted to take Rob to Disney World. I went there twice (three times?) as a child and swore up and down that it really was The Happiest Place on Earth. The happiest? Can’t say for sure at the young ripe age of 29, but it certainly has it’s perks, including being old enough to drink AND ride the Tea Cups. Amazing.
Finally my husband selling his soul to Corporate Canada (doesn’t quite have the same ring to it as “America”, but anyway) paid off in a big, fancy way: we ate well, drank much and hot-tubbed on the company tab while visiting the Sunshine State. Wow, dreams really do come true.
Things were going swimmingly, just swimmingly, when suddenly, on the hotel bed, following a day of Disneying, amidst the plethora of pillows, down comforters and 500-thread count sheets, I started to cry. And not just any cry, this was an ugly cry. The real deal.
“What’s wrong?” asked my doting husband, to which I replied among gobs of snot and tears, “Nothing.” (obviously).
But there was something very, very wrong with me. There has been something “off” for some time in fact, but it’s something that I chose not to give a lot of consideration to because I didn’t want to fuel it – I didn’t want to dignify it with a reaction. But ignore something long enough, like a tax bill, credit card statement, hang nail or screeching kid (all equally annoying to my soul), and eventually it gets so you just can’t ignore it anymore. In fact, your attempt to shrink it with a dose of neglect will inevitably only make it bigger.
So there I was, at the Happiest Place on Earth, a slobbering, blithering, sniffling mess (bibbidi, bobbidi, boo) and my poor husband without an inkling of an idea what to do with me. Worse? I didn’t know what do to with myself, although I did have an idea (OK, I’d been having whole brainstorm sessions) about why I was so beside myself, so unable to cope in that moment, so unreasonably irrational and messy…
…Phewf. Need a breather. Be right back to tell you the rest. Prom-ise.