Wrangler Dani

Life’s been kind of crazy lately. Crazy in the inexplicable way of a schedule that does not change but slowly catches up with you and starts to claw at your throat but you’re so busy that you ignore just how crazy it’s getting until one day you’re driving to Out Of The Way Place #75 and call your poor overworked husband in order to have a much-needed, snot-nosed, teary breakdown.

So that happened.

But I have hope. I have two very large T-bone steaks awaiting the Hubs’ magic hands, big new ideas for the treatment of my newly purchased potatoes, and a long Friday night with no plans except me and my honey (and the meat, of course. Always meat.)

I don’t know why I get so overwhelmed. I watch my fella handle stress out the Wazoo at work with grace and ease, plus the added stress of me shrieking into his life every few weeks, and he just manages. He sails along in blessed manly non-freak-out mode, despite considerable obstacles and a grueling schedule. When I grow up, I want to be more like him. (For all of you who think I’m a total basket-case, I promise I’m OK. I just got in touch with this whole “tears are water that come out of my eyes ooooh how freeing I feel better” thing a couple of years ago and it’s pretty great, if slightly over-used these days.)

But, as my title suggests, I have SPRING BREAK next week. Which means I’m only working two jobs instead of three and will be writing and tanning and going to CostCo and wearing flip-flops instead of boots and generally relishing my astonishing amounts of freedom. I’m so excited. And with this excitement, I can toodle down and coach my tiny cowboys and girls with joy and verve, knowing that next week all of us can hang up our dusty spurs for short reprieve.