Yesterday was full of fail, and thus by extension, tears and frustration. It's a weekly occurrence now, but it's just as heartbreaking, or perhaps even more so, at that frequency. It's frustrating that there isn't a word for that space between "success" and "failure" which I'm insisting exists, because that's where I must be stuck. After a morning of sulky (and still being sick) and a good portion of the afternoon feeling sorry for myself, I got dressed. I can't say it helped, but it did allow me to leave the house.