It’s been a day. I don’t mean that like, “Man, have I had a day!” It’s just been a day. No axes fell, no miracles broke through. Just a day.
As if I wasn’t already suffering enough, HAND-STAPLE-FOREHEAD, my still-young-enough-to-get-pregnant body chose the wee hours of this morning to inform me that I’ve squeaked through another month without reproducing.