Friday was the beginning of what I thought was going to be a decent weekend.

It wasn’t all bad. I guess I should specify that first. Because there were some good parts.

I spent a lot of time with the boy. That was lovely. I worked, and that was good (because I am broke as a joke). I watched A LOT of movies, and that was good and (somewhat) relaxing.

But then, there were some bad parts. Even though none of these negative things dealt with me directly.

I don’t want to get into it, but a lot of people I know are hurting. This, understandably, makes me hurt for them and makes me sad. So I felt a little off in hearing the news.

And Sunday afternoon, I had an assignment that I was going to be light and fluffy. But no, the radio host was talking about domestic abuse. And the guests on the show? Family members of women who were killed by their boyfriends/husbands/etc. … Talk about heavy stuff. I nearly cried a few times in the booth.

So when my roommate asked about my weekend this afternoon, I stated, “I feel like it kicked me in the jugular.”

Oh, and the cherry on top is the AC isn’t going to be fixed until tomorrow because the repair company “lost our paperwork.” This is almost as believable as the pizza guy not delivering my calzone because he couldn’t find the boy’s apartment, mm hmm.

So tonight, I’m sleeping underneath the fan. It’ll be like camping.

Here’s to hoping this week ends better than it began.

… The pity party ends here.