Every now and then I have a really good cry. It usually happens unexpectedly but I can also kind of trace the triggers. Like last night, it was probably a combination of 2 buckets of red wine on an empty stomach, having spent a portion of the day watching friend’s babies grow up on facebook, a slight sense of listlessness, the fact that I’m taking a brief break from playwriting til my job is done which makes me sad, mozerrella sticks for lunch and subsequent guilt, hormones?, the fact that I had bad rain-bangs, God trying to tell me something, and humidity. I never hate it when it happens though, the good cry. I kind of love how it washes over me, and makes me stop and think. Oftentimes I can be TOO positive or optimistic, and don’t spend enough time asking myself the big questions. A good cry forces you to do this, which I like.