Women's Ward

Life is terribly funny some days. I mean, of course, those days when it isn't suicidally sad. The days when it's funny are often completely identical to the sad, except for the hormone levels.

It's true.

I could watch the boys rip open a bag of cereal, and it splits down the side, to cascade over my newly scrubbed floor...and one of two things will happen. Either I will laugh joyously at the sheer beauty of children.. Or I will suck my thumb in a fetal position until lunch time.
Today was one of the psychotically confusing days. Everything went so perfectly, and was so filled with bliss and happiness. Yet, I still had the hormonal need to crumble. That is terribly exhausting. What is a girl to do?

The boys and I spent a quiet morning at home reading and doing housework. Then we went off to The Old Penitentiary, which is now a museum. I thought it would be a fabulous location for a breakdown, but we had such a nice time that I couldn't do it.
Then we hit the Reef, one of my favorite places to eat. And They Had Changed the Menu. When I was informed by our Barbie doll waitress that they no longer offer goat-cheese -and-crab quesadilla, I crawled over the table and clawed tufts of her hair out. After a Cosmopolitan, I was able to compromise on my order. We ate a very satisfying meal, and came home to read yet more.
What am I to do with all my pent up aggressions when I can't even have a proper bad day?