Down will come baby, cradle and all

Have you heard the lullaby "Rock a bye baby?"
It's a very soft and sweet melody.
The softness and sweetness stop there, however. If you closely listen to the lyrics, you'll understand that it's actually quite a violent and sadistic song.

The lyrics go like this:

Rock-a-bye, baby, in the tree top
When the wind blows the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall
Down will come baby, cradle and all

I've been having a crazy week at work. Another one of those weeks where I ended up feeling proud for not actually saying out loud things that I was thinking.

I woke up this morning not feeling rested at all. Having traveled both nights the last weekend, and having a busy Monday and Tuesday was not fun. My first thoughts were about the vendor I had to confront because he had given me just 15% of the items I had ordered, confused some of those orders as well, and forever gave me the "Working on it" story. There was no morning letter waiting for me. Added to that, my morning book currently is a Danielle Steel - Journeys, which covers physical and verbal domestic abuse. So obviously, by 7:00 am, I was ready to crawl back into bed, and sleep for a week or so.

There are some days which you know are going to be so bad. However, nothing has happened yet.
It's like lying in the damn cradle hung on breaking branch. You may be swinging on it, staring at the branch as it breaks little by little. Knowing that it's just going to get worse. Somedays they just do. Unavoidable impending doom.

There's no point in fighting even. Moving or shaking when lying in such a cradle will only break that bough faster. So you just let it go. Wait for it to be done with. The damage done can be assessed after the crash and fall has happened.

The crazy thing about these kind of days is, it all comes down on you at one shot. Before it does though, it's quite comfortable - in a way - the wind might be blowing, the cradle might be rocking, it might be the perfect kind of moment to softly drift away into sleep or watch the butterflies flutter around you.
Like hey, another delivery I expected tomorrow is coming early!

On the other hand, you have that feeling at the back of your neck - things are going to go wrong. Will the bough break? How far am I from the ground? Will the broken branch fall right on me, and will it fall away? It could even fall searing into me. Maybe I'm just a foot or so above ground, maybe I can roll away quickly?

Unfortunately, you'll only know when it has already happened.