Had a 45 minute conversation with my dad. We weren’t close when I was growing up. He lived a 1,000 miles away and we only saw him a couple of weeks a year. He was never good at calling. As an adult, I expressed my dissatisfaction to him about the state of our relationship and we agreed to fix it. Ever since, we’ve made it a point to talk at least once a week. With my depression, however, I’ve been reluctant to talk to just about anybody. We skyped last week, and I knew he’d see the melancholy in me, but he didn’t push me. Today he confirmed he had, in fact, noticed, and hadn’t taken it personally. My dad hasn’t always been able to avoid taking things personally, but our greater understanding of each other and ability to talk fairly honestly has caused growth for us both. Which is a good thing.
Random change of subject. Last night my daughter spent the night at her nonna’s. My husband worked late. I got off work at 4, and treated myself to a night of beauty. I haven’t been making enough of an effort to make myself feel good. I did my hair, gave myself a facial and a mani/pedi. I feel purdy.
I’ve got the next five days off. New year, new PTO bank. Yeah! Let’s see what I can get done.