Oh I had such plans for today. There would be some nice things in the morning with Wriggly and my Mum, and some blogging this afternoon while the toddler slept, maybe some baking, certainly a decent dinner prepared. I thought I was so over it all, moving on and feeling good again.
But I'm not over it and I'm not feeling good and I'm not managing to do much to plan today. It's been two years since my Dad died, and although it's not constantly at the forefront of my mind, it's undeniably making me sad, grumpy and not that great to be around. I got frustrated at some work colleagues (yes I have the day off, I usually do schedule difficult Dad-related anniversaries as days off if I can, but apparently something was urgent), was uninspired company for my mother, yelled at my son when he was naughty, was largely unexcited by one of the really very nice things I did this morning, and am generally feeling worn down by everything that I hear on the radio or see on the interwebz.
So I am going to bed. Maybe when I wake up I can pretend it's not today anymore. Sorry about the lack of quality blogging, particularly the post(s) I've been hoping to write on women's representation on boards and the like. I can't make any promises for the weekend, as this funk may last several days, but one day I will get around to it I'm sure.
And it just goes to show, even when you think you're through, even when you think you're over it, sometimes you just aren't.