We Need Some Glowsticks

I have had a hard week.

It seems like everything that could go wrong, did.

1. Workload exploded.
2. Family member got really, really, scarily sick.
3. My medical condition got worse.
4. I pulled my shoulder muscle during yoga.
5. There was no wine in the house, so I had to have a glass of nasty honey-flavored whiskey that someone left over Christmas.
6. I gained five pounds.
7. Lucy wants to move to her friend Haven’s house ’cause “They are way more fun.”
8. I opened a can of concentrated grape juice and spilled it all over the kitchen floor. And I can’t get it clean. It’s impossible. It will be sticky for all eternity.
9. I literally left a bag with three items on top of my car and drove out of the Target parking lot. With people laughing and pointing. One of the items was a jumbo box of tampons. It was awesome.
10. My dog somehow got into Lu’s Valentine’s candy and is now acting like she’s on crack.

Yesterday Trent was all, “What is up with you?” And I responded, “What?! You want me to go eat a f***ing rainbow or something!” He’s so lucky to be married to me.

So I’m trying to perk up a bit today. Well, after this morning with the grape juice and the floor. That included some sobbing, but now, NOW, I’m ready to bring some sunshine into my life and stop listening to The Rosebuds on repeat. And The XX. And Bon Iver. And Fleet Foxes. Because that depressing crap is making me want to sacrifice myself to the wolves, and not the good kind that turn into hot, young Native American vampire killers.

Instead, I’m dancing in my car. Flailing around to some funky beats. And I think it’s catching.