Dreamers dry those tears...

I have been a weeping mess for days.  Sam can set me off with a look.  The television can set me off with a commercial.  The dog can set me off by standing in my way.

Holy hormones, Batman.

Yeah.  I'm a mess.  And I hate it.  It's not me.

Sam left to go pick up a window and some job applications and I gave him a hug and burst into tears.

What am I crying about?

I swear I don't know.  I'm not afraid of being left alone for extended periods of time.  Shoot, I barely saw my ex-husband.  And I'm not afraid of Sam repeating mistakes of husbands past.

So what's up with all those tears?

The best I can come up with is that I'm uber emotional.  My hormones are completely out of whack.  And the end result is that I am a blubbering mess.

Poor, Sam.  He looked at me all helpless.

Sam: Babe, why are you crying now?

Note how he had to include the word 'now' to point out that this is not the first time this has happened this week, in the last few days, or...sadly enough...even in the last few hours.  And I couldn't come up with much of an explanation.  I think I muttered something about how I was worried about the potential amnio.

He hugged me extra long and hard.  He asked me to wish him luck.  And I know we need this.  We have big plans that simply aren't going to come to fruition without this second job.

Still...I don't think I can be faulted completely for the occasional cry.  (As long as I drop it down to occasional and not the hourly cry that it's threatening to become.)

So, I'll use my time wisely.  And I'll stock up on Kleenex.  And I'll do my best to plug along and make all of our dreams come true.