Saturday.

My friends Mai, Rose and I had a food trailer lunch date on Saturday, and while we did, we read parts of Rose's old diary.  A diary that she has kept - stunningly! - from age 8 to 18.

Have you ever dug up your old diaries?  I highly recommend it.  There's this one entry I wrote in my diary when I was like eight years old, and in it, I describe a day filled with drama. It ends with the line, "what is this, crying season??"  

I always giggle about that.  Both in its Jewish grandmothery rhetorical questioning, and in how applicable a phrase that really is.  Sometimes, it just feels like crying season.

(But not, fortunately, on Saturday.)