*&$#$# I am ruining my makeup

I'm at the McPolack homestead for the week while McMumsy and PolackPappy visit London. I had a crappy night of sleep last night owing to a cold, and to not being in my own bed, and to a certain corgi waking me up by banging his beak on the door at 1 in the morning.

I've been dreading coming here, just a little, and I finally realized why: because the last time my parents left the country was when Babcia died. I showed up, they gave me the news, and left for Ireland. And I felt really, really alone.

Of course I know I'm not alone. But when I got up this morning and noodled around on Facebook, and looked at pictures of my friends with their families -- husbands and kiddoes -- I felt, and feel, at least right now, deeply, deeply sad. Which is fine. It's good, even. Human emotions run the gamut. They're supposed to. And it is SO much better to let stuff out than bottle it up and let it poison you.

But still. The tears are messing up my makeup.