Making me feel better:

You telling me that you’ve been wearing the same shirt I bought you for Christmas since the day I last saw you until today, and thus, a total of eight days now, not because you are poor or have no other clothes to wear, but just because you like the shirt that much.

My baby-carrot sister. Because she can be feisty like a tamale, and yet comforting like a little carrot all in the same conversation.

Friends who, after I tell them that I am currently existing, as I do once every month (because I have to, I really don’t choose to ride this hormonal rollercoaster), in that happy-go-lucky pre-menstrual state of being otherwise known as: Highly Emotionally Unpredictable, I Just Might Be Upset For No Reason, Or For Every Little Reason I Can Think Of, And I Will Probably Cry On Cue, Or On No Cue At All, And On Every Cue In Between, tell me that I am allowed to bathe in my emotions, as long as I maintain a little piece of my brain that can remind me that I’m totally rational, and that people can JUST DEAL WITH ME FOR FOUR DAYS DAMMIT.