A Day Most Foul

I am in A Mood.

It has not been the best of days here in the Unfinished Casa. I have been in a major flare for the past ten days, and today I had HAD IT. I was THROUGH. It hurt to use the joints in my eyelids, almost.

So I started feeling majorly sorry for myself and called Sis, just to make her say, "Poor baby. Poor, poor baby." to me whether she wanted to or not. Somehow that made me feel worse instead of better, like I was justified in feeling sorry for myself.

So I went in the bathroom at work and bawled for a while. And then I went to the doctor and bawled for a while.

And then they changed my medications again and patted me very gently on the head and handed me Kleenex and told me it would all be better in two weeks and in the meantime, LOOK! HERE ARE SOME PRETTY PAIN PILLS!!!

And then I went back to work and had to discipline an employee.

And then the phones went out and I had to figure out why and get them fixed.

And then I came home to children, grandchildren, and the MIL. And the two-year-old decided to hate me, so when I spoke to her I made her cry uncontrollably.

So now, if you don't mind so very much, I'm hanging up this day at the back of the closet where the too-small clothes go, and I'm going to bed to forget it ever happened.

You may speak to me again in the morning, but not before. Because I cannot promise your head will remain attached to your shoulders otherwise.

Your otherwise jovial and loving sort,

me