Grrrr.

I don’t like Friday the 13th, though I am not a hugely superstitious person (read: not superstitious at all).

So far today, I:

a) was wrong about something that I really did not want to be wrong about, and yelled at someone because of it when I shouldn’t have, and now I’m embarrassed;
b) have visited two separate medical offices (non-emergency, thank goodness);
c) nearly missed getting Becky to gymnastics on time (though mostly due to the fact that I didn’t know they’d changed the practice time from 3:30 to 2);
d) have watched a trampoline impale itself further and further onto a swingset;
e) let a large, strong and kind of stupid Golden Retriever pull me along the sidewalk, leash-burning my fingers in the process;
f) towed three children around to several places;
g) and wrestled with the internet connection on this work-issued laptop for several hours. I’m not sure how it’s finally working, but it is (I’m probably costing the company money as I type).

I need a large glass of wine and quite possibly a cigarette. The first is off limits till later; the second is just off limits.

Anna, how do you do it?

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