Bad Day 267--A Bad, Bad Day

First, Husband is OK. Every conversation I had today started out with that sentence. Second, I'm having a bad, bad day. Monumentally bad. Epically bad. So bad I actually ate chocolate. This day shall be known forever more as The Day We Don't Talk About. It started at 5:30 am when I checked my facebook which I always do at 5:30 am. (Yes, that was sarcasm. Of course I don't check facebook at 5:30am! Usually I'm walking The Dog instead.) So when I checked my newsfeed, there was a message from Husband's PRT that they were all OK, which I knew was a bad thing and my heart stopped. I stood there paralyzed for what seemed like forever too scared to even breathe. Then Husband called to say really he was OK and that I should get ready and go to work and he would call me there. So I did because I knew I could find out what was really happening. I found out that it was much worse than I had imagined and way worse than Husband originally told me, so I am back to being a mess. I spent the day alternately laughing hysterically or sobbing at my desk. But the good news is I finished my EER because that was the only thing that was painful enough to distract me from the horror that was all over the news and in my in-box, and on my voice mail.

Besides the EER, the other good thing that happened was that friends and family really stepped up. So to those of you who e-mailed or called or facebook messaged me or hugged me in the hall, thank you, thank you. And to those of you who managed to make me laugh in the midst of it all, you are treasures beyond compare.

There are hundreds of people in Afghanistan having a worse day than me because their loved ones didn't come home today. There was no message on facebook and there will be no phone call saying they are OK. My heart and my prayers are with them. I hope yours will be, too.