I can tell I'll be howling tonight.
Honest to pete, this has been a day I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. And forgive me, Joyce Meyer, but I'm about to do some mighty complaining here. It may not be a godly thing, but I need a little vent time.
(Side note: I'm feeling guilty about this because I watched Joyce Meyer on television this weekend and she was ALL OVER me about how much I complain. She wants me to STOP IT, ALREADY, because it doesn't do anyone any good.
As much as I love you, Joyce, upon occasion it does a body good to let out all the pent-up steam. That's what a good cry is for, and that's what complaining is for. Although I don't recommend it on a daily basis, it can't hurt once in a while.)
And now....ON WITH THE VENT!!!
I've had a very bad day.
Seriously? There were problems at work. Then we've been under no small amount of stress because a dear friend had a mental breakdown. Then someone dared to chastise me for eating a donut. (He barely came away with his head attached.) Then I lamented to a group of people on an online board about eating the donut out of stress, and was told I needed to get my poop together and get counseling to keep from stress-eating.
It's just one of those days where you want to go out and kick a dog. A stuffed one, of course.
Although if I got online to an anger support board they'd probably tell me to get my poop together and go for for counseling to keep from kicking stuffed dogs.
So in short, Joyce Meyer, work, friend, donut, poop, counseling, stuffed dog, counseling.
And maybe some more poop and counseling for good measure.
Tomorrow will be better.