A friend at works refers to me as so optimistic and a glass-is-half full type of person.
One could argue that she knows me poorly.
Perhaps, though, I save my pessimism and sadness for when I am home. Which isn't fair, I realize, but ...
This afternoon, for instance, I was on the floor brushing Claren, and I just tipped over. I decided to just lie there till Mom came over in 30 minutes. As the time got nearer, I decided I should try to get up to prove I could. Only I couldn't. I tried hard and could not get up. That makes you feel like crap.
So does having to get help to change clothes because you get to the bathroom in plenty of time but can't get your pants down.
And there is more, of course. It is at times like these that optimism seems silly.
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