I think it was the sugar. I mean, it's wrapped up in hormones (nods at B) and in my liver function which is iffy, but it doesn't seem that logical when you're in the midst of the meltdown.
Today I have done the couch to 5 K leg, walked the dogs, edited a short story, and packaged up book orders
I have also snuggled my dogs, pulled out my cashmere hoodie, which is 3 sizes too big this year, and found my little orange planner under my desk, which Sonny has eaten.
It has been brought to my attention that I neglected one basset member of the family, so here she is. My Sadie. She is not a motherfucking beagle. I intend to get her the t-shirt that says so.