Tomorrow my piano arrives.

So tomorrow must, by definition, be a better day than today was.

Today wasn't all that BAD, it was just a mess of little things - misunderstandings, meetings that never came off, people whose job it was to help me being unbelievably helpless (especially considering that their company was trying to get me as a client), people "needing" stuff, people neglecting to tell me stuff, all of that. And it all just built up into a big ball so that when I got home at 5:15 pm and started making tortillas for dinner, and inadvertently burned one, I nearly cried.

Surely I am not the only one who does that: some silly little thing, that under normal circumstances you would shrug off or even laugh at, becomes a BIG GIANT SYMBOL OF HOW YOUR LIFE BELONGS ON FAILBLOG RIGHT NOW.

But I took a deep breath and now I feel some better. I think I'm going to finish the laundry, finish a little cleaning in my bedroom, and go to bed and read (and hope that Mr. Pickwick gets out of the dreadful debtor's prison somehow. I worry about him.)