O woeful day!* Also, the post where I use excessive parentheses.

I hate to cry. It's quite possibly my least favorite thing in the universe. (And that's saying something, what with the Dixie Chicks and leggings paired with skirts still on the table.) Usually if I feel the urge to cry I'll tell myself, "Snap out of it! You're a grown woman!" And then if I still need to cry, I allow myself a couple of tears and then clear my throat and say, "Snap out of it! You're a grown woman!" I'm not kidding when I say I very rarely cry.

But this week . . . ugh . . . this week has been a week. Basically, everything is sucky and lame. (No, I'm not at all prone to exaggeration. Why would you even ask?) And to top it off, my sister moved yesterday to flippin' Baltimore. Geez, who would even want to live in Maryland? (Except for roughly 83% of my family.) For your information, folks: Maryland=nerdy. I'm just saying.

So I've been mucking through in my usual non-weepy state, but then this:

They gave themselves up wholly to their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection that could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation in future.*

And this:

'You ought to be ashamed of yourself . . . a great girl like you . . . to go on crying in this way! Stop this moment, I tell you!' But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all round her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the hall.*

And really how can you argue with that? (Don't question my logic.)

So let's review the times Kim has cried today:

1. When she went the wrong way to work this morning resulting in a six-mile detour. (You may wonder how a person can go the wrong way to a place she's been going every weekday for four years, but hey, it happens.)
2. When her boss asked for her new emergency contact and she couldn't think of anyone. (Sad.)
3. When her chicken breast on ciabatta was undercooked at lunch. (Yeah, I ate it anyway so if I mysteriously stop posting or answering emails, I might be dead. Farewell. Thanks for reading.)
4. When she heard a song on her iPod from EFY 1997. (What? You didn't upload 4 years' worth of EFY soundtracks on your iPod? Well, I'm not saying anything but I'd sure hate to be you on Judgement Day is all.)

So I've cried 4 times today. I have got to snap out of it. Seriously. Tell me a joke. Or call me and sing me a funny song. C'mon, because All By Myself sung by Eric Carmen is getting old (and so is Eric Carmen).


*Name that literary work and get a prize! (Prize: me saying "Awesome. You are cool." Unless you want to go get pineapple smoothies with me later tonight. My treat.)