Ya know, when it rains, it pours. When work goes crazy, this would be the day that random stuff gets assigned to me to overlap the existing stuff, and the jury hangs but then changes its mind and decides it has a verdict at 4pm so that we’re totally running late (court normally recesses at 4p so we have an hour to get our stuff done), and this would also be the day I’m trying to juggle 2 jury trials. And to really put a nice spike into the shoe that’s kicking me already, this is also the day I get my feelings hurt by someone who could’ve made my day had things been done differently. Instead, I’m kicked and then left alone to bleed.

Hmm. Why does this sound familiar? Men are so oblivious to how far a little comfort and commiseration could go in their favor. Aren’t we entitled to getting upset over something small when we’re having bad days already? Can’t men just give us a hug and stroke our hair and tell us it’s going to be better soon, instead of getting all touchy and adding to the stress?

At least I got a 3.25 mile run in during lunch, despite the fact that court ran late into lunch, too.