Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown

Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown

The day drug on. I did each chore as it presented itself. But I have to tell you, by the time 5 PM rolled around, I had my nineteenth nervous breakdown.

The dog continued to bark, the baby wouldn’t stop crying, the teenager whined about her boyfriend, while my eight-year-old ate corn chips off the kitchen floor.

Did I forget to tell you today is my nineteenth wedding anniversary? Where was the joy? Where was the love? There are 6,940 days in nineteen years of wedded bliss. That’s right, over 6,000 days. Each day a joy. I am smiling on the inside. Can’t you see it?

My husband is out of town. He is taking care of the business of making money. Perhaps we’ll celebrate when he comes home. If there’s time before the twentieth nervous breakdown.

When the kids are in bed tonight, I’ll turn on the Stones and listen to my theme song this year, ‘Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown’, while I drink some wine and wait for my anniversary phone call. Mick Jagger calls and we chat for a bit. But no call from hubby. Darn.