yesterday was one of those days.

well, not one of those days.

one of those days.

(right. i mean, common. big difference there.)

for whatever reason, it took me forever to shower. no matter what i did with my hair, i could not make it look like i pretended to care. my first three attempts at applying eyeliner resulted in a picasso portrait. and to top it all off, i woke up with full on acne. i felt awful. and fat.

it was as if someone put me into slow motion while the world continued on without me. and for any over-achiever who has not yet completed her grad school applications, is behind at work, can barely keep up with her part-time job, has not been a very good friend or girlfriend lately, and still needs to write a personal statement to get into "my" rheumatology fellowship, the thought of moving even-slower-than-normal was alarming.

so i had a quick panic attack. i just did not have time for a full one.

when i finally decided what to wear, i changed. twice. when i ultimately felt comfortable in wrinkled khakis and a heavy turtleneck to hide feeling fat, i walked outside to discover that it was almost 70 degrees. i waited for the bus, and when it finally arrived, i remembered i left my cell phone upstairs.

then the metro broke down on the way to work.

i got to my desk at my office and realized that a package had to go out that morning. when i went downstairs to the building's mailbox, a notice said that anything over a pound (which i was. and the package too), had to be sent out from the post office. so off i went.

while walking to the post office, i tripped on a curb in front of the white house. thank goodness lots of armed officers and protestors came to my rescue.

when i got to the post office, the very nice postwoman told me that she could not accept the $6.85 postage label that was on the package because it was dated from last friday. she told me i would have to go back to my office and reprint a new label. i asked about other options. i begged her for other options. she was persistent.

instead of crying, i paid her a second $6.85 and left.

by that point, it was only 10:15am.

the day proceeded as my morning had. i screwed up something huge at work. i requested a northwestern interview from a local alum and spelled northwesten [sic] wrong in the email subject line. i learned that although i requested my gmat scores be released to business schools almost a month ago, they never actually were.

naturally, when i finally got home after a full day of work and teaching a three-hour lsat class, i could not fall asleep either.

had i been smart, i would have turned around and gone back home when i left the post office and hid under the covers while watching oprah and eating a tub of ice cream.

when i was little, my mom used to read me "alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day." (if you have not read it, you should. i still own a copy; for days like that.) the narrator has a day like mine and keeps saying that he wants to get away and move to australia. at the end, his mom tells him that "everyone has bad days like these ... even in australia."

maybe.

but i bet the postal workers are more friendly there.