Dear this week, and last week,

 Saturday and Sunday too,

You suck. 

Please stop sucking.

I'm stressed out and irritable. My head is pounding. 

Not even my red dress could cheer me up in this gloom.

I'm mad at just about everyone, except for my grandparents who took turns talking to me on the phone and remember that soon it's my birthday. 

It's hard to be ambitious when your day job has you down and you live with the people you work with and you get in trouble for things you shouldn't be getting in trouble for because you're a hard worker and you want to make everyone happy all the time but this is not possible and no matter how hard you work someone will always find something wrong with the way you do things.

It's hard to get fuzzies out of your eye without a mirror. 

It's hard to be a girl.  

It's hard to stay mad at the people you love. 

I'm grateful for the color red, my grammy and grandpa, grammy's hand embroidered denim jacket, antique pictures in frames, and promises that are kept.