.

Standing in my kitchen, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. I'm numb, but on the verge of tears. I'm so fortunate in several areas,  and SO unfortunate in several others. I'm probably having a pity party, but I just can't help it right this minute. 

Today is the last day of school, and I should be out running while I can. My boy gets home at 10:30am today. In spite of the trouble it is to get him on and off the bus in his wheelchair, I sent him to school so I could have the last 3 hours of break time before summer starts.  And yet, here I sit. Cup of coffee steaming in my hand, in yesterday's eye makeup and my pajamas. I can't get off the couch. 

Just when I thought we'd had a breakthrough in the direction of positivity with my ex-husband, he has gone back to his typical m.o. of 'bare minimum', but this time with poking the beehive thrown in. Seriously? As if I don't have enough on my plate, and without him actually helping more through the injury. He made it clear that the one day he spent with our son so I could work, was THE only help he was willing to give. Like he's doing me a favor helping out with OUR son. I shouldn't be surprised. I should have remembered to have ZERO expectations of him. And yet, I allowed myself to be hopeful. That'll teach me. 

I feel....bad. I'm exhausted. I'm scared about what the next steps are with my boy's knee.

And I'm lonely.