My pretty initiative took a hit today…
I woke up 20 minutes late (when I say 20 minutes, I should explain that that isn’t including the 10-15 minutes of oversleeping I automatically work into my morning routine…), so I was already flustered…then I realized that the lid of my left eye was attractively swollen, and slightly red (who knows why!), so my 13-year-old girl makeup routine went out the window, then I grabbed a pair of cheap tights I bought at Duane Reade (because they were cheap) maybe three or four years ago (and probably haven’t worn since), and promptly ripped an enormous hole in them. Because I’m an adult, and capable of making rational decisions, I decided that it would be more sensible slash efficient to coat the hole in clear nail polish rather than simply throw these out and put on a different pair. There is, of course, now clear nail polish all over my thigh. Then, I realized that my shirt is covered in fuzz from whatever it was hanging out next to in my closet, but again! no time to change!
Sooo…I left the apartment a furry, lacquered, makeup-less cyclops…and now gmail is advertising Spanx instead of the “do you want to be a teacher?” “do you want to write a book??” ads I usually get…
In conclusion: :(