When I'm having a shit day, I sometimes like to see just how unpleasant I can make it. And that's what I'm doing today - poking the bruise that is my life.
To examine this day properly, we really need to begin with midnight last night, since that's when n.o.c. and I decided to stop at a Taco Bell because we were seeing double and nothing sharpens the senses like questionable meat coated in chemical hot sauce. Then I slept for five hours. Now, somehow, I'm at work, and I loathe everyone actively. I'm wearing pants that make me unhappy and ugly shoes. I am unprepared for my classes, but instead of preparing, I obsessively refresh my blog roll and nytimes.com. I have other, non-work things that need doing, but completing them would be too satisfying, so I perseverate over their magnitude. It's a beautiful fall day, but I will not be coddled by sunlight. Instead of walking up the hill for a salad, I sit at my desk with bad posture and eat a white bread bagel smothered with cream cheese. My tongue has a wax coating and my stomach churns. I am despised by my body.