... it's just a bit too much, you know? You're tired, so tired, and you're having trouble staying on top of everything and that's really hard to cope with and, also, you keep having these spells where you tilt and list and the ground seems to shift beneath your feet and you're not in California so you know it's not some nice old predictable earthquake, it's just you and your predictable response to stress and exhaustion and a steady diet of cinnamon buns and decaf. Oh, and the demands of an infant and a toddler. Who are trying to kill you. In the loveliest way, of course, but still.
And then your stupid blogging platform refuses to post the photo that was going to make it all okay, and you just go fuck this.
You're going to have to start all over again tomorrow.