what. a. day.

9 a.m. Wake up, still with a throbbing migraine, meaning I can't help my friends move. I am simultaneously disappointed and relieved, because it's too painful to open my eyes beyond a slit, which means closing my eyes is best. Back to sleep I go.

11:45 a.m. Wake up, headache is gone. Throw on some sweatpants, eat some cereal and out the door to the move. I move boxes and try not to dirty the white carpet.

2:30 p.m. Really hungry, so I eat a delicious turkey sub from Zero's. Looking back, this was the highlight of the day.

3:40 p.m.-12:45 a.m. Make several hundred copies of papers for hand-outs for a Monday meeting. Collate and get paper cuts. Give up on collating and stapling halfway through, decide everyone can staple for themselves. The rest of work includes majorly reworking a graphic, an Oscars ceremony that runs 50 minutes late, forgetting to do the weather page until an hour and 10 minutes past its deadline, tempers, miscommunications and a fellow employee uttering the phrase "do we have to ask about it?" when I ask a valid - but pretty simple - question.

1 a.m.-2 a.m. Walk Gracie, eat chips and vent with Lauren. We watch Rainn Wilson on SNL.

2 a.m.-3 a.m. Read blogs, look at more red-carpet photos while thinking good thoughts about tomorrow being a fresh start, a good day for a run, a day that does not involve Oscars, etc.

3:09 a.m. I settle into bed with a sigh, close my eyes and realize I smell urine. Sure enough, a spot six inches from my head is slightly wet, but just wet enough to have permeated through my top sheet, bottom sheet and foam pad. I clean my mattress just in case. Lucky for me, my comforter is unscathed.

3:31 a.m. After copious cleaning and loud laundry, an e-mail arrives. My best friend's grandmother has died. There's nothing I can say except "I love you" and realize my day is really not so bad.

EDIT 6:15 a.m. I roll over to the other side of the bed and discover that Gracie has had not one but TWO ACCIDENTS on my bed in a span of hours. Time to take this set of sheets off and start washing my comforter/looking for a creative way to make my bed when basically all my linens are in the wash. It's a ridiculous reason to cry, but I will anyway.