Sometimes you get a moment that helps to redeem all those other moments and this here moment is one of them.
Today I spent most of the morning amassing the paperwork that we need for our Medicaid application. I spent most of the afternoon logging my internship hours so I can get them signed off before winter break and to make sure I can get my hours completed before Dweezil shows up. As tallying hours is one of The Logistics of Life, I should have been entering them weekly, but haven't entered a single one since the last week of August.
I finished entering the hours a few minutes ago, so I went to the summary sheet to see how my progress was coming along. I discovered I have enough hours to graduate.
Meaning, I have been working way more than necessary, but I can stop worrying, leave town for the holidays without a care in the world, and have time next semester to meet my obligations to my internship sites without any concern about getting my requirements met.
Because they are met.
I recognize that this could also be a tragic tale of how I pushed my pregnant self way too hard, losing undue sleep, and being irresponsible in a backward sort of ill-planned way, but I'm in a half-full sort of mood because...
the Medicaid stuff is all in a pile, ready to fax in on Monday...
And Ryan just emailed me this:
At the time, I was so sad that I didn't have the energy to make Pumpkinfest happen, but I did insist that Ryan's 399 lb. champion be carved. At 6:00 pm on Halloween. And I made us set up the self-timer so there would be proof that even though we were tired, stressed, and almost dead, we still had the biggest Jack O' Lantern in the neighborhood, and we grew it ourselves.
It can be hard to predict which days will be the good ones. Today definitely wasn't slated that way, but as I sit here awash in triumph, I'm happy it snuck up on me.
Maybe this is kind of how it feels when after a long, crappy pregnancy, you realize you get a baby at the end because you're holding one in your arms.
Sorry for comparing you to a nearly-completed Medicaid application, Dweezil. You'll understand when you're older.