This morning, it was raining.
Not just any rain. The super hard, flooding, pouring down rain that renders every driver in my fair city completely incapable of driving down Interstate 40 without their foot jammed firmly on the brakes of their vehicle. Because jamming your foot on the brakes in the middle of huge puddles of water is a great idea. Clearly.
But it didn't matter. Yesterday, I was great. Today, I was going to be even better.
Traffic was an absolute nightmare, but as I got closer and closer to my office, the rain started clearing. Because today? I was going to be great.
There was absolutely no parking anywhere. I couldn't even find a spot in the dirt lot that I sometimes resign myself to parking in. I had to park somewhere in approximately Canada and hoof it up a really big hill to my office.
No matter, I told myself. It's good exercise. It's not that hot today. Today? I am going to be great!
Less than 1/4 of the way up the ginormous hill? It started raining again.
Really, really hard.
No matter, I told myself. I have a hood on my jacket. I'll just pull it over my head so my hair doesn't frizz. Because today? I'm going to be great.
It was raining so hard I could barely see in front of me. For some reason, perhaps Satan's influence on the cruel world, there were absolutely no trees in the area I was walking so I couldn't even shelter in place. I had to continue walking up the hill. In my Crocs, which were arguably my worst choice for the day. My socks got wet. I stepped in a huge mud puddle and my socks were not only wet, but covered in mud. My pants legs were so wet I could literally wring the water from them. My underwear was soaked.
No matter. It was going to be a good day. I was determined.
My jacket became so wet that it weighed about five pounds. I was soaked from head to toe. Even my hair got completely soaked. Unfortunate, I thought. But not the end of the world. My hair, even when a bit frizzy, is totally banging. Besides. I was going to be great.
My co-worker chuckled at how wet I was and I said, "I know! I'm a fright. Good thing I'm so damn sexy and it doesn't even matter."
In front of the project manager and an auditor.
But it doesn't matter, I thought. Because today was going to be great.
I slipped on a huge puddle of water in the hall, skidded about fifteen feet, and landed, firmly, into an enormous FireKing cabinet. My co-worker declared me a safety violation and made me a yellow and black label that said "Hazardous", which he stuck to the back of my shirt. I went to the bathroom and looked at the huge, purple bruise on my boob.
But I thought to myself, somewhat desperately, today was going to be great! Right? Wasn't it?
I went to the morning meeting and the auditor did not mention any issues that seemed notable. Some minor crap, but nothing big. So even though my pants were dripping as though I had peed them, I was certain, once again, it would be a good day.
The auditor then took me into an office and told me for three hours how much I suck.
Yesterday I was the windshield. Today I was the bug.
But I didn't cry. I held my head up high.
Even though it was really, really, really not a good day.