Crying Tomorrow

One of us would say something ridiculous, and then we'd laugh until our stomachs hurt and tears were rolling down our faces, one of us almost falling off the bed. And then, wiping the tears away, my mother would say, "Oh no, we laughed too much...we are definitely going to be crying tomorrow." She is superstitous like that, my mother, and I have wasted a lot of energy telling her one hundred and one reasons not to believe all that crap.
I think she might have a point though. I had an amazing weekend. I got an amazing haircut on Thursday (story to follow), had an amazing weekend with my friends, loved P's new ring and T's new man. Spent Monday night drinking wine with girls from work and Tuesday night cuddling with He Who Makes Me Happy. That's when I should have quoted my mom and stopped having so much damn fun. Come Wednesday, the crankiness was seeping out of my core and I was desperately trying to cover it up with the loud laughing and the hand clapping and, well, being generally bouncy. And by the time today hit, I surrendered to the evil that is my terrible mood and oh my god can someone please inject vodka into my veins. There is nothing quite like the feeling of inadequacy at work, the lingering thought that this is the second year I am spending not doing what I want to be doing, and WHY HASN'T MY MED SCHOOL APPLICATION GONE THROUGH YET DAMNIT!!!!!!
And although somewhere deep inside me I know that the main reason I'm moving is because I need to distract myself from the feeling of utter failure and panic that creeps into my head the second I stop thinking about something else, I'm looking forward to it. I'm busying myself with looking for new furniture and concocting decorative schemes for the second bedroom. But all I want to do is take a nap, and when I wake up, I want to be holding an acceptance letter in one hand, and a notice of being debt-free in the other.
Haircut story:
Thursday was a stressful day at work. My flight left at 9:30 and I had a hair appointment at 6:30. Of course, I left work late and got lost getting to the hair place, so by the time I arrived, they wouldn't take me. The Crazy started taking over my body, and I ran out with tears in my eyes. The second I got in my car, I was hysterically sobbing and calling Him. He answered, heard my hysterics and immediately thought of everything that could possibly be wrong. "They....wouldn't....cut....my....haiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrr!!!!" Good lord, woman, get it together. But he didn't say that. He told me to head to his apartment, we got off the phone. Five minutes later, he called back, telling me that I had an appointment at 7:15 at an uber-nice salon near his apartment, and (knowing that I couldn't afford it but not wanting to say it) that he had "taken care of it." And when my hair was done and I showed up at his apartment, starving but ready to be taken to the airport, he handed me a sandwich and cut up fruit, wrapped up so that I could eat in on the way. It doesn't get better, or sweeter, or more loving, or more amazing than that. What the hell. WHAT THE HELL. It's like a Greater Being is dangling chocolate chip paradise pie in front of me while taunting "you can't have it you can't have it!!!!!!" But I'm not complaining. Because seriously? Amazing.