Where five hundred small, lame, bad, annoying things happen?
Add in lingering neck pain from the car accident, and months of just not exactly enough sleep.
Each thing on their own would be NBD. But together.... hello.
I'm pretty sure if we had pets, their heads would be falling off.
Then you drop your phone. The same phone that you have dropped 49 times. But this time, the 50th time, the time you need it NOT TO BREAK, it breaks. Because that is how it goes.
Rich people problems.
So you cry. Like a crazy person on a Lifetime movie, cry. Your kids ask to watch UP. You cry the mommy-what-is-wrong-with-you???????? cry. Not to be confused with the ugly cry. This cry is the ugly cry on crack. (WHY IS THAT MOVIE SO SAD BY THE WAY?)
Then you have yourself a mental breakdown day (phrase taken from Totally Desperate Mom, by the HILARIOUS Wendy Hagen, which every momma out there needs to read).
It is time to treat yo'self.
Tonight I am going on a date. I planned it. It is happening.
I will eat vampire dip. I will try a peanut butter and jelly hamburger. Because I can.
The events of the last week will fade away. I will get a new phone. I will have more mental breakdown days. My pets heads will still fall off.
But tonight, Jason, and my little sidekick Shane, don't care.
It is time to treat ourselves.