Then there are the days where it really fucking sucks to be me:

• An innocent email in which I cooed over a romantic gesture between two friends received a reply of “you make me feel like crap”
• I offered to pick up ingredients and prepare a favourite meal, only to be turned down in favour of a night of drinking
• I came home to two enormous piles of puke, one of which was helpfully situated directly under my desk
• There was a lovely pile of cat shit on the bathroom floor
• I had to disinfect my left boob, because Sasha scratched me with a shit-covered paw when I was struggling to force her cancer-fighting medicine down her throat
• I have Valentine’s Day rage
• .. in addition to just plain regular rage

I know these are all just a bunch of petty little bitches and things could be a lot worse, but *fuck*. I am annoyed at a whole bunch of things.