Perhaps, a tad dramatic, I admit. But it's been a solid month of non-stop-go-go-go, and the cold-sore on my face means that I've hit a wall. Although, judging by the size of this cold sore, it looks as though a wall hit me. In a self-induced-pity-party the other night while doing dishes and making lunches for the next day, I exclaimed with a great sigh "HEAVEN HELP ME I NEED A BREAK!!!" Then the phone rang. There was a great discussion. Then I got all excited about the possibility of a new business opportunity. My mind began to race. World domination was within my grasp! (Or that's what it felt like ...) And when I told DH of my new plans, (a mere 10 minutes after my great exclamation of needing a break) he smiled, nodded his head and without even uttering a word, I knew ... that I was ... quite possibly ... the master of my own demise. Were it not seconds ago that I believed the weight of the world was in fact resting solely on my shoulders? The fear that if I stopped to catch my breath ... life as we know it would ACTUALLY come to a grinding halt! Seas would churn. Volcano's would begin to rumble. Nickelback would release another album (snicker-snicker) ...
