Just One of Those Days

You know those days. When just about everything gets on your nerves.

    ✦ The guy on the bus next to you that insists on spreading his legs 10 feet. Seriously?! No way you need THAT much space.

    ✦ Guys that fit into skinny jeans 1000x better than you do.

    ✦ Putting together your "healthy" coffee at Starbucks, only to realize afterwards that you picked up the half/half instead of the skim milk.

    ✦ 4-year olds that kick my ass snowboarding (only exception being my niece, but she’s just awesome).

    ✦ People that walk 4 across down the sidewalk – under scaffolding.

    ✦ Friends that say "oh I’m not hoping for a good time, I just hope I can finish" and then turn in a 28 minute or under 5k.

    ✦ The loud cell-phone talkers, about nothing that couldn’t wait 45min, on your usually very peaceful ride home.

    ✦ That girl who insists she is only competitive with herself and then proceeds to put you under her microscope through every pilates and yoga class you are unfortunate enough to have with her.

    ✦ The boots you were so excited to find that fit over your calves, only to find out they are actually somehow TOO big and start to slip down every 15 steps.

And really all of this is stuff that normally just rolls off of me, but I’m sitting here in the middle of the catastrophe that is my apartment with a moving date that just got bumped up a week to THIS Sunday. And I’m downsizing from a beautiful 2-bedroom into a junior 1-bedroom (but with a real kitchen and dishwasher).

So this is really just one of those days where all these little frustrations to be vented and blame placed elsewhere. Because I’m at that funny point where I’m torn between pulling my hair out and screaming, just throwing everything out the window and saying "screw it", and the more appealing option right now of curling into a wimpering ball and pretending none of it is happening.

And then there is the idea of just lacing up and running. Preferably long enough that little magical fairies will come and pack and move my crap for me. With pixie dust and sparkly wings. Quite frankly, that seems almost as realistic as the idea of me actually getting all of this finished on time.

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