Cute Enough to be Crabby

That was the saying on a shirt from Grandma Cindy from the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago. I need to call them and see if they make that shirt in big girl sizes.

You're not going to get a post from me today since I'm Captain Crabbypants. I won't subject you to my whining and yelling and screaming and pounding of the keys of my poor keyboard. It's not very fair to you.

You don't really care if I'm not having a great day. Nor do you care that Wendi - my coworker and partner in crime - is gone to not be able to help me out. (In fact, part of me is blaming her for my misfortunes.) Everything at work is falling apart - the copier is broken, my dumb accounting software is locking up and the Shared Drive has gone completely missing a few times. I have a headache. Elliot is trying to potty train himself. I am addicted to Facebook.

But I won't bore you with details. And, much to my shock, the three donuts I just gobbled up aren't helping.

I'm just hoping that I'm cute enough to be crabby for a day.