My fourteen year old cat died on Tuesday, an hour before work. Had no time to deal, just dead best friend half in his kennel half out. Fed rowdy people lots of wine, got called sweetheart, passed out immediately after my shift. Woke up crying. Went to doctor's before work on Wednesday to replace my basically brand spanking new copper IUD (hormonal birth control of any kind makes me BAT SHIT crazy) that just so happened to "slip" three days after insertion a month ago which is "incredibly rare?!" according to my Doctor, who I sincerely adore. Second IUD (both of which were ~100$) was immediately "about to fall out." Said fuck it I'll try the free Mirena sample you've offered me twice, anything at this point is better than having plastic pointy bits jabbing out of my cervix. Second foreign object gets shoved into my uterus, have been in stirrups for twenty minutes. OHHHH THE CRAMPS. I said I felt dizzy and started tearing up. Got laid down and ice packed. Then I mentioned that my mom noticed the first two copper IUDs I'd been prescribed were the model for women who'd had children. Doctor rifles through the garbage with me half naked, in tears, bleeding and stirruped and realizes the pharmacist filled the wrong prescription for me TWICE. And that she failed to notice TWICE. She's livid, I'm in pain, my cat is still dead, I have the IUD I never wanted in my uterus, I get up and have to serve a thirty top Christmas party less than two hours later. People are wondering why their Sangrias are taking so long, and I'm wondering why I haven't slapped them and walked out. I spend the rest of the week being hauled left right and center by my new boyfriend's enormous, divided family. Realize I haven't been at home for anything but sleep. Go downstairs tonight to get some meal prep from the freezer, see litter box and remember I'd been so busy being selfish about my body and my stress that I forgot my best friend is dead. Fuck. This. Year.