100 Words - Dust in the Wind

100 Word Challenge writing promptI'm feeling like I should have a good cry. I add "should" because I don't do crying. Not out of pride or some false pretense of being strong. I tend to get stuck in anxiousness, stress, or anger before I get to the cry.

The new job is wringing me dry. Not in bad ways, just, "I'm givin 'er all I got cap'n" kind of ways. I get home, my brain feeling like jumbled shards of glass, and the two people I live with still haven't fully adjusted to my needing more than I can give when I get home. They're not trying to be selfish, but you know, blood from a stone kind of thing. I don't help matters by having been born with an overactive guilt gene. Like, what? You're a grown adult and you're hungry? Must be my fault! You're stressed? How dare I relax?

The kind of things therapy was invented for. Probably.

Pile on big money stress (I'm not getting paid enough yet - it's a start-up). Oh, and choosing a college for my daughter. And someone beloved by our family, especially my mother, having just been given six months to live. Aaaaand that we're temporarily housing a family member who's fallen on his own hard times. Who likes...no, NEEEEDS to drum to relieve his own stress.

Which? Fine, cool, groovy. When you're in the mood. Or you're full of verve and plump with energy. Not so much when you've come home, brain and soul dried up, just sunk down into a hot bath, closed your eyes, hoping water and bubbles will work their restorative magic, and the drumming starts.

What should have been restored, relaxed, and rested, ends up being naked, wet, and stabby. This is the exact point I should cry.

Instead I coil up, collapse inward, turn to dust.

Dust is not the matter one wants to be in a turbulent wind.

Still. Life goes on, and it's actually damn precious. Maybe the bubble bath was a wash (aren't I puntastic?), but there's always Downton Abbey and cookies and milk and warm blankets and blissful sleep and hearing someone giggle and a tiny little cat with a purr in her throat. And this:


Enough, I hope, to get me through tomorrow with a little bit of grace. Have you guessed the word yet?