365 dAys of aRt. DAY THIRTY-FIVE.

you are beauty
beyond limits
existing in the minutes
between us

Have you read Judith Viorst's ALEXANDER AND THE TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY? Well, I was Alexander yesterday, and the day before that. I feel like I'm on this streak of bad luck and bad days. For instance (ahem) -- last night I walked into an oversized doorknob at full speed, right at the boniest part of my hip bone. Instant bruise. I bit into a pear and broke off half of my permanent retainer. I now have a sharp metal-thing jabbing into my palette. I've walked into six walls since I woke up this morning (sleep deprivation will do that to a girl). I pinched a nerve in my neck trying to lift the leg of a 735 lb patient -- turning my head to the right just isn't an option. I got snapped at, yelled at, and quite frankly verbally abused by three out my eight patients last night (I curse sundowners). I'm stuck in a job where my work ethic is taken advantage of on a daily basis. I'm always playing catchup with school. I'm tired. And burnt out. And every sort of drained. But -- even in the midst of this bad streak, I found something to smile about. It came from the little voice of a two year old, combined with his talented mommy. If you're one of the fortunate few who have heard Darcel sing, you know where I'm coming from when I say that her voice had lifted my spirits. She patched that bruised hip and sore ego. Imagine hearing her, along with this little child trying to sing BETTER than his momma. It was a genuine kind of keepsake moment. When you find yourself stuck in a loosing streak, having a TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY, who's there to bring you back to life?