Most days are bright and shiny, filled with joy, unicorns and other exuberant delights. You wake up ready to seize the day and cope like a well adjusted, positive thinking adult equipped with your optimism and grown up panties.
But then there are other days…
Friends, some days the entire universe joins forces in a unification of time, resources and hatred to say “Hey, f**k you Tracy [or insert your name here]”. And that shifty mistress destiny gives you a 24 hour kick in the teeth.
Now maybe you are one of the fabulous people who has never experienced this day, where things start off bad from the get-go and just spiral from there. However, if you are one of those people I’m sure you aren’t reading this blog. You’re probably off accepting awards and flossing regularly. The rest of you, though, can relate to this day.
You go to sleep the night before with every intention of making the most of the following day, but things don’t always go to plan:
The alarm startles you awake from what was arguably the best sleep that has ever been achieved on this globe. So terrified by this foreign beep that interrupted that recurring dream of marrying Robert Downey, Jr. you accidentally hit the OFF button instead of SNOOZE. For a few brief moments its bliss as you drift back to sleep, but then you wake up with a jolting realization that you are now late. “I have to get up now. I’ll miss you Robert, but I’ll see you again in tonight’s dream you flawless human specimen.”
Hopping out of bed you rush to take the dog out, begging the Patron Saint Of Well Behaved Animals to please please PLEASE make your dog poop faster! But alas, that shall not transpire for thusly we say unto you that thou dog shalst take thine sweet freaking time on this the morn of your tardiness.
[Boys, you may want to skip to the next point…NO, you know what, misery loves company so let’s read this one together] Oh frick, Aunt Flo just rolled in for a visit and she is angry! That wench is already complaining hard and my uterus feels like an angry Gremlin is ripping me apart. Thank you uterus, once again you prove to be a maniacal, vindictive monster forged by Lucifer.
Guys, I don’t know what your equivalent would be for starting your period. I’m assuming it’s something akin to having your arm ripped off be a live bear while being set on fire. I feel like those two scenarios match up equally on the pain scale.
Rush to shower and get soap in my eyes. Great, now not only will I be late but I’ll also have the blood shot eyes of a heroin addict. I bet I’m not going to make employee of the month.
Something for breakfast? Oh that’s right, there is no actual food in my fridge. I curse you Yesterday-Tracy for looking at your Clean-Eating Pinterest board before going grocery shopping. Why do we have all of this kale? Screw you yogurt, I want my Captain Crunch!
Made it out to my car. If I can just break the sound barrier I can get to work on time. It’s a totally feasible plan if…nope, my gas light just came on. Roll into the gas station on fumes and a steady prayer promising to give more to charity if only God will get you to that pump. He does, but after paying $40 for gas you can no longer afford to give to charity. Are you happy, you just lied to God. Good luck carrying that guilt around. Next time that gas light comes on you are on your own.
Oh well hello every red light! So nice to see your angry little faces this morning. I would love to stop at each one of you and really get to know you better. Thank you for affording me that opportunity. I feel like we should have learned from charging bulls that the color red inspires anger and aggression. Maybe those light should be changed. It will be better for everybody except for the color blind.
Finally on the highway! If only that person at the front of the fast lane wasn’t out for a leisurely drive. Are you trying to make a point to the 90 cars riding bumpers behind you? Is that the reason for you refusing to accelerate? Fine, I’ll just merge. Except wait, this jerk on my right won’t let me over. You’d better have the decency to pull up beside me and meet my eye for the proper shaming. Don’t you look away from me! I know you see me!
Finally make it to work. I would park in the lot but some douchebag in a SUV is taking up 2 spots. That’s cool I’ll just park on the street a few blocks away and hike in. Whoops, I think my key just slipped and took off some of your paint. Whoopsy-daisy.
The plan is to sneak in unnoticed, but wouldn’t you know it Suzie Sunshine is at the door to poke at you a bit with her perfect morning induced cheer. You walked in a strained Bruce Banner, but you are now the Hulk.
Now standing in the clear light of the business world I notice for the first time that my clothes are wrinkled and lightly dusted with dog hair. Fantastic! They looked pretty dashing in my frantic rush to get ready. What a depressing blow to my dwindling self respect to now realize that I look like the bird lady form Mary Poppins. “Feed the birds. Tuppins a bag!”
Nestling into the cocoon of my cubicle I fire up my ancient computer and wait, breathing calmly for the first time in hours. I’ll just check my emails real quick and…my computer froze.
Suddenly time just stops moving. I have been hemorrhaging seconds since I woke up, but now that I am at work time stops moving in a linear forward motion. What is happening here? Perhaps Zach Morris called for a time out but I didn’t freeze with the rest of the world?
I just have to survive until the lunch hour. Move clock! How dare you tell me it’s still 9:47. It’s not possible. Move! I command you to move!
Maybe I’ll just kill a few minutes checking facebook on my phone. Oh awesome, yesterday 8 of my friends got married, 17 had babies and 156787567 have poorly researched political views. But I don’t get any farther because the endless cat videos you guys posted that now autoplay on my newsfeed just killed the last of my phone battery. But I need my phone so I can post how miserable this day is! My pain doesn’t count unless it has been properly documented on facebook and twitter.
I need caffeine. Stat. Or perhaps in 10 minutes after I clean the Keurig. Did somebody use it to make soup?
Rush to my meeting. Pen and notepad in hand I doodle, silently willing nobody to ask me a question as I make zero eye contact. Two hours later I have meager knowledge of what the meeting was about but I do have a magnificent 8×11 college ruled mural depicting a dragon fighting a T-Rex in a field full of dandelions and fire.
Quick bathroom break where I see for the first time that my hair is frizzed to the max and weirdly curly in one spot. I know guys just rolled their eyes, but women care about this; you wouldn’t understand. Well, I guess I’ll just be rocking a ponytail all day like a woman who has given up on life. A ponytail is how the female of the species signals to the others of the pride that she is in a weakened, vulnerable state.
Back at my desk only to find that the internet is out. What? No internet? Are we looting yet?
Cried, regrouped and gave myself a pep talk so I continue on, which gave me enough courage to try to re-face this day and hope for the best. Those hopes are destroyed as the printer jams and I set about pulling paper out of weird mechanical crevices. “I already cleared the jam! Go away error message #2538B#Q, you have no reason to still exist! I have defeated you.”
Leave the printer jammed for the next poor sap to deal with, then go to my car for lunch only to find a parking ticket. I proceed to leave said ticket on the SUV still taking up two spots as this ticket is a direct result of his douche-baggery and he should thus be held fiscally responsible. This brings a little moment of joy to the day but that joy is dashed as I wait in the long line for food that claims to be fast while a woman at the front of the line tries to figure out what a hamburger is.
More red lights……………..
Back at work I’m crabbily angry-typing at my desk when someone chipper walks by and tells me to relax because things could always be worse. Yes, I suppose you are right. TECHNICALLY I could be in a war torn country with a debilitating disease and no money being attacked by feral tigers. But you know what, I think even without those obstacles I am allowed to experience a bad day. But I don’t say any of those words audibly. Instead I condense it all into a look and under the weight of it they…
The day is slow for several painful hours—
I bit my tongue
—but finally the dawn breaks and the clock announces there are only five more minutes in this work day. You are so close, when suddenly an email pops up with those dreaded words: “I need this by the end of the day”.
Finally I get to leave work. I just need to get home to the safety of my sweatpants. But oh wait, there you are more red lights! I’ve missed you! It’s been too long!
Oh yeah, I have to go grocery shopping because everything I bought yesterday is green, and the only cure for this day is massive amounts of carbohydrates. But I just don’t think I can manage more interactions with people in this mental state. It wouldn’t be safe. Welp, dollar menu it is for an evening of drive thru and survival eating in my car. FYI, any fries consumed in a vehicle are known here as “shame fries”. On a really hard day McDonalds fries taste like love… “Supersize it please!”
Back at home I seriously consider becoming an agoraphobic so I don’t have to ever go back into the big scary world again.
But wait, what is that? My wifi router is blinking!?!? But how will Netflix soothe me if my wifi is out? Please tell me I don’t have to call Time Warner! Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
After 20 minutes on hold with Time Warner the tech actually has the nerve to utter the sentence “Are you sure it’s plugged in?”
Sitting on the couch deep in a marathon of “Don’t Trust the B in Apartment 23” all of the laundry, cleaning, chores, and tasks that need to be completed weigh in on you, judging you for being so lazy. “But responsibilities, it’s been a really hard day. I don’t want to think. How dare you guilt me with your necessity. I deserve to watch some TV without you nagging me. You know what, FINE! I’ll put in one load of laundry but then everybody back off!”
I lied, I’m not doing that laundry.
And then at the stroke of 12 the curse is broken.
…we’ve all been there.