This week has been one of the worst in a very, very long time (December 2004 keeps coming to mind) and yet...at least I made it all the way to Friday before my misery got so intense it destroyed my appetite.
I wish I could work through the weekend. The job is my one comfort at present. My coworkers notice I exist; they don't shun me like most of my supposed online friends. But no, today is a Friday, and I'm going to have to steel myself to try to get two meals a day down my throat going forward.
At least I made it seven weeks. And at least little Adya is doing well. Her excitement when I get home from work is a tiny bit of sweet comfort.