Wine is good

I'm a little off this week. To put it mildly. I'm running the gamut from near-catatonic despair to trembling anxiety (I dropped and broke a jar of salsa at the store today, under the extreme burden of grocery shopping, because really, it's tough) to sobbing on the couch with my 3 year old begging forgiveness for he knows not what. I'm pretty sure the mother of the year people have shredded my application, and I'm guessing my mother and husband won't be submitting my name any time soon for the daughter or wife of the year, either.

But this afternoon, things started looking up. I got back from the oh-so-stressful shopping trip and the subsequent teacher-appreciation luncheon (really, air traffic controllers have nothing on me, what's more stressful than my life?), kicked the kids outside, and sat in a comfortable lawn chair on a beautiful afternoon with good friends and multiple bottles of wine. Wine makes me happy. It's like flavored Valium with a social twist.

As I tried to wrap up this I'm-doing-better update, a local hospital started faxing my home number every 3 minutes. Because that is exactly what my nerves were missing. I called the stupid hospital and spoke with a very unhelpful geriatric operator who said it would stop eventually. I feel better already.

The way I feel right now is why guns should be illegal. No one in my current frame(s) of mind needs to be armed.