I’ll bet there’s an app for that

Yesterday at work I had a bad day. A truly awful day. One of those bad days where you question your job, your career, your sanity. You just want to curl up under your desk, rock back and forth, and weep silently so that no one finds you under there. It all started on Monday with the issue carrying over through Tuesday.

If you all remember I left Bank of No Forks not too long ago to come join Ava at a new company. Things were so bad last night, I seriously considering calling my old boss at BofNF to see if I could get my old job back. See? It was seriously bad if I was considering that option.

I complained for the first time to My Honey about a difficult co-worker. I complained loudly and with rapid hand gestures. I try to keep the specifics of my job complaints to a minimum because he doesn’t know anything about my industry. If you add the difficult co-worker with a lunatic customer, things go badly. The story sort of told itself.

I was still upset when I went to bed, on the verge of tears. I didn’t believe myself when I suggested that things would be better in the morning. Woe is me…

Then I woke up and discovered that my monthly friend had visited. I seriously smacked myself on the forehead and was like, “So! That’s what the problem was!”

I’m some kind of special idiot.

I’ve been getting my period since I was thirteen. I’m forty-five now. You’d think I’d come to anticipate this and recognize the crazy for what it is, but no. Every single month it’s like it didn’t just happen thirty days ago. I even know exactly what day this is going to happen and yet I’m still mystified over my behavior.

Sassy is charging quickly towards puberty with the zeal of a twelve-year-old impatient to grow up, and all I can think is Sweet Zeus we’re in for some trouble now.