Today (yesterday), I crashed my car.
This week is up there. Really up there.
I'm fine. The car is going to need some work.
I want to fall down a hole and never climb out.
I can do nothing but cry and cry, and wish and wish. Wishes are agnostic prayers, I suppose.
The rift between the levels of success in my personal and professional lives continues to broaden: the Broad Street Review loved Pericles, and said some lovely things about me.