The Day I Lost My Joy

The other day the devil stole my joy.

Yup, he did.

Right under my nose.

I woke up feeling

anything but joy.

I didn't find the

little people in my

house one bit amusing.

My heart didn't

even melt

when I watched my

2 girlies walk

hand in hand

to get the mail.

All I heard was

the neighbor hollering

out her window

at my dog to go home.

And I was annoyed.

She only ran in the ditch

on their side.

Does the neighbor have

nothing else

to obsess about?!

And the list of things

to do grew longer and longer

in my mind

and began to spin in circles

and chant and laugh

at me

and dared me to attempt

to get everything done.

It spun me a web

and I got lost in it.

I leaned my head

in my hands and wept

over this mess

called motherhood.

You would think

I would have called

to higher grounds

for relief

but I thought I was better.

Who can humble

themselves to fall

on their knees

and beg for forgiveness

and a new start?

How utterly humiliating.

In fact, in a strange way

I found this web

strangely comforting.

For the rest of

the day I snipped

at this and

snapped at that.

I thought horrid

inconsiderate

un-empathizing

thoughts.

And when my

better half

came through the door

I shoved the

poop machine

and the chatter box

into his arms.

Good bye.

I'll be soaking

my care away

in the tub.

Excuse me while

I grab a diet coke

on my way out.

Tomorrow is another day.

It couldn't come fast enough.

I couldn't wait for

another morning

so I could start anew.