OK, you guys: You know it’s been a bad day when it’s 7:22 PM and you think to yourself: Maybe I should just go to bed now.
Whelp, I’m in my jammies, and it’s lookin’ like a good idea. Today was one of those days when nothing was terribly wrong … it’s just that things sort of didn’t work out.
It started off OK. I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I decided to walk to work. I live less than 2 miles from work, anyway, and I always feel kinda dumb about riding the subway four stops, so I thought: Eh, it’s a sign. I’ll walk.
Unfortunately, I had also decided that I wanted to look cute today, and so I had put on a pair of jeans which, three wearings out of the dryer, fit just fine. Even more unfortunately, they had just come out of the dryer, and so I now have a friction burn on the inside of my left thigh from walking in them. Sexy!
The work day was OK, except that I started feeling ill halfway through work, which isn’t weird, since we’re all hacking and wheezing these days like a TB ward. (Or what I imagine a TB ward would sound like. I’m pleased to report that I’ve never been in one.) So at about 4:30, I packed up my laptop and announced that I’d be working at home for the rest of the afternoon.
Home on the subway, doodlededoo, feeling more and more like crap every minute. I waddled upstairs, removed the Evil Jeans of Thigh Suffocation, and settled in to finish up a few things, wearing loose pants as God intended.
When I was through, I decided that I would finish up my book club book. This would be the book that I chose, by the way. The one that no one, not even me, could find, until like last week. And I left it? At the office.
So my chub rub and I will be waddling into work rather early tomorrow morning, to finish my book before my book club decides to stuff it down my throat.