My mom died in January.  One of my cats died in August.  I moved three weeks ago and can't find a job.

And now I've noticed that my teddy bear, which I know no 32-year-old woman should still be attached to, has a giant rip down his back, rendering one of my sources of emotional and tactile security too fragile to handle regularly.

I've been sitting here sobbing.  I'm devastated.  I know it's life, but things need to get on an upturn really fucking quick.

It's not really about the bear, fyi, though that in itself is bad.  It's that so far 2014 is fucked.