Ever have one of those days*

... when you just wanna jump in front of a car and scream, "MISTA! MISTA! Get me outta here!"

Mista Mista lady, I am so feeling you.

This morning I overslept by about half an hour, groggy from the excellent choice of mixing vodka and red wine (and I only had 2.5 drinks? how am I feeling this?), and stumbled into the shower. Managed to get dressed and primped in time, throw on coat, went to take medicine. Said medicine missing. I scan every surface in my kitchen. Check the bathroom. Open all the cabinets and drawers. Did I throw it out by accident? Check trash, gross. Wash hands. Search some more. Could it be under the couch?

Oh no, there it is, in the CVS bag from yesterday, when I picked up my refill.

Good, Brett.

Pop pill and go, praying that I'll be able to walk off the mild ache in my left foot. I'm only wearing 1.5 inch heels. That's nothing.

But the moment I step onto the concrete, I shudder. I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, so I steel myself and try to make haste to the metro. This soon turns into the sort of trot you might spot at a Special Olympics track meet.

Oh, yes, I forgot to mention the large bag of books I am carrying for my co-worker to take on vacation(!!!!) with her tonight. So not only am I hop-limping, I look like a lopsided bag lady.

I finally make it to the platform when a swarm of commuters emerge from the lower level and I am foiled in my attempt to make the train that just pulled up. (Seriously, there should be Metro shepherd dogs. People are like sheep.) Of course.

Fast forward to the office, still in pain, realizing that I most likely have a stress fracture. Also that most of my shoes are heels. Then today's important meetings, the ones for which I specifically wore a suit and heels, cancel at the last minute. All of that pain? For nada. Thanks Universe. Adding to my misery: I haven't worked out since Sunday and was planning to tonight, but now I can't really do that can I?

After years of stiletto torture my foot issues revenge in the form of a fat ass.

Awesome.

And now, I am stuck at the office until 6pm, which wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that it is so. effing. slow. Soon I will limp my way back to the Metro, where children will point and stare and I will be introduced to communicable diseases I didn't know existed.

Where's that air conditioner when you need one?

*I know I know, it's not so bad, but sometimes a girl's just gotta whine. Be thankful it's not out loud.