Did I, or did I not say to Bob on Monday night that this week was going to be a shitty week? I think I did. And I think I've been right so far. Let's recap:

Monday- shitty day at work. My co-worker pissed me off to no end.

Tuesday- tore ass to the southside to get my dress to the tailor in time, and she was just randomly closed for the day.

Wednesday- tired and cranky because I was slightly hungover. And I only ate half a sandwich for dinner. Boo.

Thursday- walked out to my car to leave for work, and saw that someone had hit it. Great. Because I haven't had enough turmoil with my car in the last 6 months.

Friday- TBA