You ever have one of those days where you feel so hideous you don’t want to leave the house?  Where you are concerned your butt won’t fit through the car door?  Those days when even the thought of the gym scares you, with all the coiffed and flower-scented barbies?  Those days that make you want to crawl back into bed before you’ve left it? 

One of those days when you know you must, absolutely must, go to the gym, and do your class, and pretend that everyone around you isn’t prettier or better or thinner or more flower-scented than you.  One of those days when you really honestly could sleep all day and then all night and wake up the next morning and decide, yeah, you really could use another day of sleep. 

One of those rare days when you indulge in second and third helpings of self-pity and self-loathing, knowing realistically that “this too shall pass” but hating it while it’s here anyway.  Days when you think you’d better double your prescribed mgs of Zoloft or call a friend for lunch, but realize you don’t have any friends available for lunch, dinner, OR coffee because everyone you know and love works.  Days when you hate the previous sentence you wrote because it is so entirely lame and pitiable and if you read it on someone else’s blog, you’d say, “Dude, you really need to get a grip.”

I’m having one of those days.