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Don’t you hate it when you’re trying to get back on anti-depressants after making the disastrous mistake of self-weaning and you have to call your doctor to prescribe them again after several months off and you wait and wait all day long for her to call you back but you finally have to go to Target on a desperately urgent mission to pick up the leopard print Snuggie you didn’t get for Christmas and your doctor picks exactly that moment to call you while you’re browsing in the greeting card aisle so you have to stand there and describe how all you do is scream at your kids all day and stay asleep until 10 am and the whole time you’re talking you’re being stared at and judged by the woman across the aisle who is so on top of things in her life that she is already browsing for Valentine’s Day cards in January?

And you know she can hear you because you’re having to practically scream to be heard over the roar of your clearly unruly children and so you’re smiling this ridiculous smile so she thinks your totally sane but the smile coupled with your account of how hormones are turning you into the world’s worst mother makes you look a bit maniacal and then you realize she has pushed her cart away as fast as her little feet can carry her and you’re secretly glad that you totally ruined her Valentine’s Day shopping mission because it is January after all and is she in some insane contest to be the first person in the city to buy Valentine’s day greeting cards?

I’m not the only one who has days like this, right?

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