My kids use the WTF abbreviation all the time and I think it fits here. What is a girl supposed to do when she’s facing un-employment, her butt has dropped so low it’s resting on the back of her thighs from lack of exercise and her darling man is having a small altercation with the IRS?

The answer to that question should be depression, loads of chocolate, butter and salty foods. Lounging on the couch watching bad TV? Check. Hiding from the rest of the world in dirty sweats and unwashed hair? Check. Not shaving my legs or using beauty products in general? Check and Check.

Except I’m not doing that. I’m happy, productive and serene. I am not looking a gift horse in the mouth either. I’m going to ride this trend for as long as it holds. I don’t know if it’s the yoga, some fluke of brain chemistry or the fact that I’m finally – to paraphrase Cedric the Entertainer – a GROWN ASS WOMAN

I don’t care. I’ll take it. 6 months from now I may be hunkered down in front of Jerry Springer reruns in dirty underwear, rocking back and forth clutching unpaid bills, repeating Rosebud under my breath like a mantra.

But something inside my rib cage is fluttering and it’s not my heart. It’s lighter and wants to lift me up. It wants me to say, it’s taken care of. The job is out there. Waiting patiently for the time to reveal itself. The world will revolve, the sun will come up, the seasons will turn. The end is sooo not nigh. As my friend Renee in Kona used to ask me. How is your today? Today, my friends, rocks

These times are scary as all get out. I get that. It’s painful, but I do not have to be a pain. Pain is inevitable, but suffering is not. I have two wonderful children, the love of a good man and skills.

The rest, all of it, is not in my hands.