Ugly Cry

Ugly cries happen to the best of us and by us I mean you because awesome people like me don't ugly cry.  Of course I'm kidding and if only I had the photo to prove it.  Since I don't, you'll just have to believe me.  I had one big fat ugly cry Thursday night.  Don't cry for me, Argentina.  Really.  I'm over it now and quite frankly, sometimes the ugly cry is one of the most therapeutic and cathartic experiences so long as I don't look in the mirror because I am not one of the lucky ones.  My face turns red and blotchy when I cry making it very difficult to conceal (and frankly even look at).  Actually, my face turns red for a lot of emotions and would make a pretty sucky mood ring come to think of it.  Naturally, I was driving when the ugly cry reared its head and I thought, "Boy if I get pulled over maybe the cop will show mercy for this hot mess."

When I look back on it, it's pretty ridiculous as to what was my tipping point.  Basically, the stresses of my new "normal" already keep me a little more on edge than usual, but life decided to throw me a curve ball and then hit me with a pitch while she was at it.  Filing my taxes proved to have some hiccups, I thought I tanked my quiz and then the icing on the cake was when I plugged my phone into the car outlet to charge and I thought the ringer was broken.  Oh gosh.  The phone threw me over the edge.  Now entering: bat $#!+ crazy mode.  I lost it.  I start bawling and sniffling and yelling to myself in the car, "This is why you don't own nice things!"  It wasn't until I unplugged it and tried the volume controls that I realized you can't change the ringer volume when it's plugged into the car charger.  Despite my lapse in brain functioning, all was now right in the world.  Phone is fine, I did well on the quiz and the taxes are *hopefully* figured out.  What can I say?  I have a history of overreacting.  True story...my mom told me that when my sister and I were younger, we (or maybe just I) cried over a small amount of milk spilled on the counter out of fear that she'd be mad.  It was at that moment she realized she needed to loosen up on the neatfreak-ness, but I digress.  Simply put, I'm a basket case sometimes.  "I'M IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS!!!"  Well, this was my first ugly cry throughout all the stresses of grad school.  I'm entitled to one.  Check that off my list!