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Not my day

Within the past half-hour I've managed to get in an argument that I knew better than discussing, resulting in upsetting a friend, and been turned away from the townhouse I was looking at. And I haven't even left my home yet. Have to go to a social dinner tonight for work, which also puts a knot in my stomach. That's my day; welcome to it.


Those are the days when I wish that I could either:

a) Get back in bed and start over

b) Hop in my (imaginary) charter jet and fly to Tahiti


c) Sit in my mommy's lap and cry.

I don't know if you're going to do any of those things, but I know (a little bit) how you feel.
If I wind up in Tahiti, I'll send a postcard.