This week has sucked a bunch of hemorrhoid-riddled anus.
First, I seem to have an ever-diminishing supply of pants that I can still button, and even fewer without visible coffee stains. Reaching into my closet to pull out one of these winners first thing in the morning really sets a shitty tone for the whole day, ya know?
Plus, my workweek has felt like one continuous episode of "American Idol"; I've been watching, with diarrheah-inducing nervousness, as a parade of my co-workers gets called into my supervisors office to find out if they are "safe" or "in the bottom three" or simply getting booted off the show (with a generous severance package!).
Also, it has rained for the last three consecutive days and you know what havoc that wreaks on my hair.
And, um, I gave blood yesterday and have decided I'd like it back. I can't afford to give away any more parts of myself, as it turns out. I feel like I've lost some of my powers.
All this bullshit is making me feel unsettled and kind of frightened, frankly.
A normal girl might just let go a little and allow the people around her to pick up the slack for once. But not me.
No, sir. I put on my bitch face and curl up in a ball on my couch and seethe and throw things at people.
The Blizzard of '17
3 days ago