I needed Ibuprofen today and I had to ask a coworker for it. I'm out.
It seems I'm out of a lot of things recently and my optimism is cracking a little, teetering.
"It'll work out," is something I say a lot. To my family, friends, coworkers, and I believe it and it does.
But sometimes I doubt it.
Tonight I doubt it.
Yesterday I doubted it.
This week I've doubted it.
Today I wished for the problems of only yesterday because today they were compounded.
If only I knew how small that was to worry about compared to this.
Ah, worry. I do that a lot, you know. I've obsessed over solutions and mulled over options until they were mush in my throbbing head, and then very simply solved. And then, on to the next worry. The next mountain, the next mole hill, it doesn't matter. Let me solve it, let me fix it.
There's a silly notion floating around out there that maybe I can't fix it. Maybe I don't have what it takes to make it all better.
Or maybe in my tired head are answers waiting to be found. Who knows.
What I do know is that today I needed Ibuprofen and I asked for it. Tonight and tomorrow and the next day I need soul medicine. And I'm not so good at asking for that.