It had been a bad week, no denying that. Parts of it, of course, had been very very good, but in a way that could only mean bad things in the future, and feeling this much guilt meant my lapsed catholic schoolgirl side was like a bear with a sore head, while the rest of me was just plain sore. Didn't help that Cale, like most kids, hasn't yet evolved to the point where hearing 'Mommy's had a bad day' is the cue to be nice and quiet and drop whatever argument we've been having before, and you try explaining to an indignant and needle-phobic five year old why he has to be sedated three nights in every twenty eight when he's got it in his head that it's not going to happen any more because he says so.
So yeah, I wasn't exactly Miss. Sunshine and Rainbows.
Good job I had someone to vent to, really. Alex is... an acquired taste, let's put it that way, but damned if he doesn't know how to keep a secret. I don't think he ever planned on becoming the resident shrink, but if the boot fits 'round here...