Not Craparama, Crapapolooza!

This is a sad picture, and it represents a sad me. I am sad. Blah. Wounded. Hurt. Bummed. Whatever. I have had the crappiest week in a long time, and there's no other word to describe me other than crap. It's all encompassing; you can use it replace "shit" or the actual "shit" that comes from eating too many beans, or "fuck" or "damn" or whatever, and it's not even considered a real cuss word, so there. Boo. In any case, things have made me sad and I hate having a pity party. Why don't I just put on "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to?" and sit around eating buckets and buckets of sugar stocked mint chocolate ice cream? Well, maybe I will. But I hate that kind of person, so I'm trying not to stoop to being that kind of person. I'm the kind of person that takes it, deals with it, moves on. But I'm just so exhausted, so I don't feel like dealing. I feel like wallowing. So I'm going to wallow. I hate this feeling. It paralyzes me and I just can't shake it off. But enough of my boo hoo on me. Let's move on.

So I'm done with grading, I'm semi-done with school; I'll be teaching WGS 250 in a week or so, so hopefully that'll be fun. I've got plans to work on my yard, etc. But I'm also working in the WGS office, so who knows if I'll actually have time off. Whatever. Oh, and I'm supposed to doggy sit soon, so here comes the stress boat.

That's enough for now. I don't feel like writing anymore. I feel like Eeyore (so annoying!) or that really sad kid on Charlie Brown. Whatever. Go ahead and make fun of this stupid post; cause it is stupid!