rope burns

I am officially at the end of my rope. I don't expect any fanfare or confetti and balloons, but I am at the end of my rope, you know.

My sister called me and we talked about my car. I cried. I took a nap. I cried. I ate soup. I cried. I watched TV. I cried. I told my husband I can't stand being alone anymore. He said, "At night?" I cried. I've spent 1/2 the evening with tears running down my stupid cheeks. Thank God my mascara is waterproof. I thought it might be a way to release this sadness, but it just keeps coming.

I've desperately tried to think of ways to make myself feel better. Plastic surgery? Nah. Too expensive. Shopping spree? Nah. I already have everything. Run from the house screaming, shaking my head back and forth and possibly making a "lululululu" sound? Getting closer.