‘I’m no quitter but I’m tired of fighting’
A rogue tear fell out of my eye the other morning, listening to Blake Shelton’s “Don’t Make Me.”
Of course, I joke that I always cry on the way to work. I did that a lot when I commuted to Rockville, Md., and Jupiter, Fla. Mostly because, on top of Everything Else going crazy in my life, the drive each way was also perfectly hideous.
But it’s like the joke was on me when I cutlined the photo, “Heard a sad song on the radio. Spontaneous tears. Of course, I always cry on the way to work.”
That’s because I went on to have a bad, bad day that day. It’s like all my boys collectively started their man-strual cycles and decided to rain blood clots on my head.
On top of that, I had computer problems for the upteenth day in a row and the AC was off most of the day.
And (I think) I was still an angel even though everyone was being a butthead.
At least I got the crying out of the way early. I was too tired to do it after it was all over!
I would say I deserved an award that day, but the fact that I get to do it all over again is reward enough.
Maybe I’ll be able to hold a smile today. For the whole day.