This morning I woke up to NIИ’s “Not So Pretty,” and rolled out of bed, cursing 7:20 am and wishing I could just ignore work for a day. HA.

I stumbled from the bathroom to the kitchen debating boycotting breakfast (we really need to invent a new breakfast food; I’m tired of them all). I pulled the milk out of the fridge and a shock ran through my arm. I grit my teeth and bit down on my lip, and then the pain was gone. “Okay,” I said. “I’m gonna feel that later.”

I choked down a bowl of cereal (man, do I hate cereal now) and forced myself to go pick out some clothes. As I was pulling different things out and running outfits through my head, I slammed my ankle on the bottom of the bed. That one made me sit down. Trying to avoid unleashing a string of expletives and a pile of clothing into the wall, I swallowed hard and made myself stand back up. (My ankle finally stopped hurting about three hours later. Yeah.)

I picked out a white teeshirt, grabbed my white bra, and went into the bathroom. Before I even got the bra on — luckily — I noticed a long underwire dagger poking out of the bra.

“Well, fuck,” I said. “Guess I’m not wearing white.”

I’m down to one bra now, and I hate mornings more than ever.

We love you anyhow,
but you’re not so pretty now