WE CAN’T ALL AND SOME OF US DON’T. THAT’S ALL THERE IS TO IT.
This is not PMS, it can’t be. What IS this weird sorrow that settles on my back, just below my skull and wraps its wide warm paws around my head? It comes and goes, and no way to tell which day will be the one that feels heavy, which will be the one that lightens and brightens with joy until everything is loud and snapping rainbow. Recently it seems to me that the grump bucket runneth over. I am not by nature a grumpy person, though I surely have my moments like anyone else. Yesterday, and today, if I had...