Today I left the house only to shovel slush from the walk. I assembled an Ikea bookshelf and then took it apart and put it back together the right way. All day I wanted to scream, or cry, or go back to bed.
Apparently, I’m not alone: today is the depressingest day of the year. (Thanks, Vomitola! If you and the Edmonton Journal had not told me, I’d have thought it was some time in February.)
Secretly Ironic 