This is the part where normally I would flash back to the trials and travails of my day and figure out how I went from shiny penny of hope to spilled bucket of rage. But I can sum up the transition in one word: Estrogen. Or Progesterone. I can never remember which one brings on the crazies.
Oh! But I forget that there is the soothing balm of television yet to come. Heal me, So You Think You Can Dance. Massage my uterus, Gossip Girl, and while you're at it send Dan Humphrey over to feed me Reese's Pieces. I'll be needing that bucket of candy, after all. The lucky penny, on the other hand, can kiss my ass.


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