Poooooor... Me

My sisters and I have this thing we do. When we’re having a bad day, we call each other and say “I need a poor you.” Now, there is one and only one acceptable response to that. It’s an immediate, heartfelt, drawn out “Poooooooor you.” Followed by a session in which the aggreived sister gets to vent

And I could use a poor you right now. (I'll wait.)
Okay, here’s the venting part:

• It’s been hot here. Mind-numbingly, clothes wet when you take them off, 100% humidity hot. Power walking is NOT supposed to make you queasy.
• I ate soup, a salad, and a fiber bar for lunch. Why, you might ask? Because I’m a moron. The rumbling coming from my stomach is actually drowning out my radio. Fiber is good. That much fiber is not.
• My shower broke. Now, if Murphy’s Law had an official bathroom, it would be mine. It’s been regrouted, replastered, and in general redone every couple of years because it was leaking. Again. I woke up one morning, I swear to God, with mushrooms growing from the wall. Not okay. The good news is that my shower is not currently leaking. The bad news is that it’s not working either. There’s just the faintest trickle of water from the shower head. I actually got pissed off yesterday, got down on my hands and knees, and rinsed the conditioner from my hair with the tub faucet, which fortunately works. If I’m going to be naked and on my hands and knees, suffice it to say I don’t want that to be the reason.
• Work. Enough said.
• I miss my friends. Between everyone’s vacations, most of my closest friends and I can count how long it’s been since we’ve seen each other in months. I just got an email from my friend Doug telling me he missed me, and I actually got teary.
• I’m freaking exhausted. Yes, I know that you’re all rolling your eyes right now. Because suddenly this rant makes sense. You all know that when I get overtired, I’m this cranky, bitchy, teary mess. But you’re wrong. Sure, I’ve been doing way too much. And having crazy nightmares every night. And waking up a million times. But I would be just as upset about all those things if I weren’t overtired. They’re totally valid reasons for me to be this upset. I am not being a baby. Stop laughing. I’m going to go take a nap.