Yesterday (and the day before, for that matter...) my progesterone levels were VERY low. As a result, you could also call my "mood" VERY low. Sloth-like, even. And I had grocery shopping to do or I'd be serving dip mix and low-fat mayo to the family for dinner. My solution? A ginormous coffee. I've never ordered the LARGE before. That thing was over a half a foot tall. Eight or nine inch-tall compostable cup of sugar and caffeine goodness. And it did the job. I sailed through my bank trip and the grocery trip.
John's antibiotics have kicked in, so he was in a fine mood. And Bethanie is the cutest thing in the world, so she clung on to the side of the cart and "helped" me up and down the aisles by pushing off with her foot. My mood stayed positive, bordering on "happy-hyper" the entire time we were there. Even reaching the parking lot and realizing I had not one, not two, but THREE strollers in the back of the van didn't turn me into a seething, cussing lunatic. I cheerfully crammed my cart full of food between my van and the annoying blue sports car parked too close on the left before I realized that wouldn't allow me to open the side door. I cheerfully backed out, keeping an eye on my speedy four year-old lest she dart in front of a moving vehicle, opened the door, cheerfully loaded the baby and the four year-old into the van, then cheerfully stacked bags of a week's worth of meals haphazardly all over the front of the van. I cheerfully made it home in time to unload Bethanie's impulse buy of 36 ice cream sandwiches into the freezer before cheerfully storming to the elementary school to gather a couple Kindergarteners.
I don't like coffee enough to make it myself, and I can't withstand the nine-thousand calories one of those "frolattes" must contain - but I think a once-a-month prescription for about three days in row might save me. Without the jolt from my beverage, I would FOR SURE have keyed that sports car, and probably the three strollers as well.