I'm sorry to announce that I am retiring My-day-sucks-worse than-yours-Wednesday.
Yes, I know darlings, it's so very sad, but there's enough bad news in this world and I'm not as eager to spread banality's phlegm as I was when I began My-day-sucks-worse than-yours-Wednesday. (It did have a good run of, um, one week.)
Maybe it's the fact that I listened to a coworker discuss the intimate details of her pap smear all day when I could have been snuggling with Junior. Or maybe it's because I visited the most horrible daycare ever after work and I'm sick about the conditions in which some babies spend their days.
Or hell, maybe it's the heat and onset of August and proliferation of toothless wackos walking past our house on the way to downtown.
Maybe next Wednesday can be My-day's-way-better than-yours-Wednesday?
No, that's just obnoxious.
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