So, it was about 2 weeks in the making. Last night I finally lost it.

I've just been so goddamn sick and fucking tired of staying/leaving/looking for jobs/feeling guilty about leaaving my current one/missing Mr. Wonderful, my friends, and my family/ second guessing myself/sleepness nights/worry/worry/worry. I just got tired of not feeling like my regular laid-back self, and turning into a crazy, self-absorbed worry wart.

Last night, after my mom had just informed me that my interest relief application had been denied, I just couldn't hold it back anymore, and I just lost it. I became a teary, runny-nosed, mascara-running, hair-pulling disaster. I screamed into the phone, not at my mother, but at everything. I talked about everything I haven't been able to articulate (to my own satisfaction), and just blabbed about everything that's been pissing me off.

I got of the phone, and the 2nd wave began. This time, alone, where feelings became amplified and I felt like I was being punched in the chest. Sexy sat on the floor near me and looked at me, and I started crying more at how fucking ridiculous I am.

This kept on for a while. As I was starting to calm down, my landlord called. He said my washer would be installed the next morning. Aah, a little ray of sunshine.