"I had managed to keep my composure in the grocery store, and even when I was putting away my cart back to get my quarter back. But as I drove home, the tears came. I began the ugly cry."
"I’m gross. I’m exhausted. If one more person touches me, I might lose it. I wonder if at some point it will seem easier to put in extra hours at work instead of coming home to an exhausted wife who seems to be barely holding it together?"
