Done.

Have you ever had one of those weeks where nothing has gone your way, then for the icing on the Cake of Being Punched in the Face by the Universe, you treat yourself to a chai that you subsequently drop in the parking lot, splashing your clothes, drawing unwanted attention, driven to the point where you just don't care anymore, look to the sky, and ask: "Really?!"

Of course you have.

In the last seven days there was the broken phone and ensuing fight with Car Toys (NOT the better way to go, by the way); running into the ex-fiancé (and not even on a good hair day); topping it all off, one of the worst migraines I can ever remember having. Ever. Me, being the ever-prepared one, used the last of the medications that I carry in my purse last week and forgot to replenish. The headache didn't really start coming on until about 7:30 or so, so I figured I'd be okay to finish out dinner and dessert. This was oh-so not the case. My car was still at my office, and after I was dropped off, it took me an hour and 45 minutes to complete the half-hour drive home. Finally, around midnight, the double meds I took kicked in and I was apparently able to fall unconscious.

So, you know what? I'm done. Yes, it's only Thursday, but I am so desperately over it that in my mind, it's now Friday. For the next two days. I'm celebrating Not Giving A Fuck.

I invite anyone who has had a similar kind of week, either this or a recent one, to join me, won't you? Grab your book or guitar or joint or needlepoint, whatever it is that relaxes you, and let's check the hell out.

Here are some visual aids to get you feeling right:

Kittens in hats:

And some puppies for those who are into that kind of thing (but kittens are way cuter):

Oooh, yeah:

Oops, sorry, I've run away with some of the things that make me happiest. What does it for you?

I wish you a good week.