A Case of the Drag-Ass

"Good morning, Eeyore," said Pooh.

"Good morning, Pooh Bear," said Eeyore gloomily. "If it is a good morning, which I doubt," said he.

Today, I had a good case of the drag-ass. No, not a day where I put on a pantyhose and pranced around to "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'."

But a day that you immediately know when you get out of bed, after four punches to the snooze button, you know that there can be no possible good that will come of this day. Your heart just ain't in it. It would be a better day if I spent it curled up in bed.

So I took my time warming the shower to a body-scalding temperature. I fretted over what to wear. I felt fat and frumpy. The toothpaste squirted out in one big gelatinous blob instead of the nice smooth line with a cute curl they show on TV. The toothpaste splattered tiny white dots all over the cuff of my black shirt. It was going to be a bad hair day and I really didn't care. And then I decided it's finally time to go to work.

I arrived at work and decided breakfast would be a good pick-me-up, so I walked next door to Mrs Winner's for two sausage biscuits and a medium Diet Coke. Fried pork, butter-slathered carbohydrates, and a calorie-free soda to make me feel better. Even Latoya or whatever her name seemed to be more chipper than I was on a chilly, dark, rainy Memphis morning. I got back to the office and sank into my chair with a sigh.

My boss bustled into my office a little later with sunglasses still on. Why were the shades necessary today? Her manic energy was more than I was ready to tolerate. She dispatched the latest message from on high in her pleasant, "it's-all-sunshine-and-rainbows" way. The message only created more unnecessary work for me. And I guess I might have sighed a little too much or rolled my eyes a little too obviously.

In her "Pollyanna-on-speed" yet indirect way, she then told me that I was working too much and suggested I take time off. Like, this afternoon. She's crazy as hell, but she might be on to something. But as great as it sounded, I knew that being gone for the afternoon would only mean more to deal with tomorrow.

After four hours of making calls, returning emails and answering questions, I turned off the lights in my office and walked out. I grabbed a bottle of cheap Cabernet* at the liquor store, and retreated to my apartment.

Having the afternoon might have been a blessing. It would have been a good day for painting, or reading, or running on the treadmill, or spending a few hours figuring out how to fix my life.

Instead it turned out to be a good day for wallowing in the puddle caused by my little black raincloud.

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*Which reminds me of a funny story

A couple of weeks ago, I overheard a man in a restaurant ask his waitress for a Cab.

She returned a few minutes later, and asked him for his destination.