And while I have been saying this for a while, things have OFFICIALLY gotten completely out of hand. First, it was crying in the Hallmark aisle. Then, the damn Christmas music. And just this morning? Guys, I CRIED AT A PARENT-TEACHER CONFERENCE.
PreK: Teacher: Your son is just doing so great with the other children. If we had a Citizenship Award, he'd get it.
Me: Aww! That's so...grreeat...he's...he's...*SOB*
PreK Teacher: *awkward, silent staring*
Me: *shuffling through purse for sunglasses* (Maybe she'll just think I'm a raging alcoholic!)
Anyway, I managed to make it out of there without getting my child expelled, but it was a close call. So, I'm taking this shit into my own hands. Sure, I could simply get an elective hysterectomy, but I thought I'd start with my eyeballs first. I got home and immediately made an appointment with Dr. Google. The following is more or less how our session went (SPOILER ALERT: Dr. Google is a DICK.)
So, okay, maybe DISORDER isn't the right term here. Perhaps I need to be more frank:
Ok, wiseass. Just forget it, ok? FORGET IT.
If anyone needs me, I'll be in a distant third-world country for a few weeks, opting for some shady, low-cost elective plastic surgery.
(Though, before I go, I made sure to enter Ryan's Awesome Giveaway contest. Here's to hoping I can still SEE THE ARTWORK upon my return. Knock on wood!)