Sometimes, I get sad and cry for no reason. This morning, after dropping Tucker off at school, I stopped by the grocery store to stock up on chicken fingers since that’s one of the 11 foods he’ll actually eat. As I was walking back to the car, I almost started crying in the parking lot.
I have no idea why.
And that’s not even the “I might be a psycho who should be medicated” part. My brain was totally grooving on being sad.
Because once I became sad for no reason, my meanass brain starting coming up with of all sorts of things that are actually sad.
Some were simple and quick worries like whether Tucker will grow up to be like the speech-impaired challenged guy whose job it is to herd the grocery carts.
Others involved twisted imagined scenarios of my untimely death and wondering whether Tucker would remember me.
And then I got really annoyed and mad at myself for being so stupid and coming up with these ridiculous, unfounded sad thoughts.
I went home. Crying.
And then I spent four hours drawing these really bad pictures and I feel much better now.
Still, I think I might need meds.