Today was a terrible day

Today was a terrible day. In my early morning sleep I was having anxiety for a friend whose daughter was to have surgery today. I got up to get Ty dropped off. I was so exhausted. I came home and crawled back in bed, only to have multiple nightmares of Eli being sick and me not being able to do anything to help him. I woke up screaming a few times. (Geez, that doesn't sound familiar at all, I wonder why I would have nightmares about that.)
I was exhausted and rattled and sad all day. I did and have been doing a terrible job of taking care of myself. And everyone else.
My friend whose daughter had surgery got her miracle. She already had hospice care and it turns out hospice is no longer needed. My friend is no longer on a oneway train to my club of moms whose kids have died. That is so wonderful. This club does not need to get any bigger. I truly, truly am glad for my friend. But somehow it makes my lack of miracle echo even louder in my head. It leaves my inner six year old crying, "Why did she get ice cream and I got raisins?" I guess it just makes me human.
I cooked dinner for Ty and I, even if it was just frozen burritos. I spent almost an hour reading a book I've been carrying around with me for awhile.
I went to target to get an attachment for my garden hose. I've been preoccupied with how stinky my backyard is. Stinky like dog pee. Huge dog + tiny backyard = stink. It's not a complaint, just a fact. I've made lots of progress.
A weird thing happened at target. There were two women standing outside with a sign when I left and they said something to me in heavily accented (perhaps Eastern European-ish?) English. I didn't even pay attention because I've been in such a mood today. But when I drove out of the parking lot I had Ty read me their sign, "Help my for food". Not my typo, that's what their sign said. Ty and I talked about what to do. All of our experiences with folks asking for money for food end in the person turning down actual food. Every single one. But they have also all been men whose native language appeared to be English. We talked about what the chances were that these women were scammers or drug addicts. We have no actual idea. We do know that it is tough to be a foreign person in a foreign land. We know that regardless how we feel about God, Jesus welcomed foreigners in less than welcoming environments. So we decided to go back and give the women some money. Who knows if that was the right thing to do.
This evening I made my way through a few more boxes in my bedroom. After awhile they start to blend in as decor, so progress feels good.
I could have come home from picking up Ty this afternoon and gone to bed until tomorrow. I made myself do things. It did not make me feel better at all. That's how grief is. But I got a few things done, so I guess that's good.
Tomorrow is another day and all signs point to me waking up tomorrow. Hopefully it will be less miserable.