i want a mulligan

remember that book alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day?

this one?

i wouldn't mind getting my hands on the book and photo shopping my face onto alexander's because it practically sums up my entire day so far and it's only half over.

like this:

what kind of day you ask?

it's a day filled with double the work and therefore triple the bullshit.  

like mainly other's people bullshit.  

and then you find yourself frantically trying to look in the mirror or check into various outlets that would have led people to believe that you give even a slight fuck.

but you don't see anything unusual and there isn't a "kick me" sign on your back.  

and you still don't give any fucks.

so you're confused.

and now you're angry.

because you don't care and people seem to think you do.  

and all you want to do is go home and surgically adhere yourself to the couch.

but then you look at the clock and realize the day is only half over.

and your phone is still ringing.

and the the death glares you're shooting at it aren't very effective.

and the mountain of work sitting on your desk hasn't magically shrunk.

and you're just day-dreaming of 4PM when your day will be over.

and then you remember that you've made a pact with yourself to go the gym like every, single day.

but going to the gym means being even angrier when you're on the elliptical next to the girl that did her makeup and dressed up to work out.

and then you catch yourself admiring her outfit.

and then you get even angrier when you realize that she has a fancy gym outfit.

and then you realize that your socks don't match.

which, in turn, reminds you of all the laundry that you haven't done.

but then the reminder of all the laundry reminds you of being at home which then makes you think about the couch.  that you're not on.

because you're still at work.

and still annoyed.

and still having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.