It’s starting out as one of THOSE days already. Some mornings I can tell straightaway that it won’t serve any useful purpose for me to come to work, because over half the stuff I do today will have to be redone. Those mornings usually start when I pull on a brand new pair of pantyhose, take one step and feel the run inch up from ankle to knee, then notice a large Diet Coke stain of which I was hitherto unaware on the blouse I’m wearing, dribble toothpaste down the front of the replacement blouse I changed into, realize I need gas, initiate frantic search for purse/gas card, etc. This morning I chose my outfit for the day, pulled it out and turned back to the closet to select the shoes that match it. Got my shoes in hand (found two - unusual, that), turn around to dress and - where the hell is my outfit? It was JUST HERE a second ago. Did I sling it across the bed, hang it on the back of the bedroom door, hang it on the bathroom door, what the hell has happened? It is nowhere to be seen, yet was in my hand a second ago, what have I done with the wretched thing? AAAAAAAAAGH.

Despite all odds, I managed to dress myself, obtain petroleum products and arrive at the office, but I continue to lose things I had in hand only moments before, misplace pens and the like. I gave The Boss a check clipped to an expense report for him to sign - a blank one. See, my part of that process is printing the payee and the amount on the check, so I skipped a little something there. I entered it into the accounting program, only in the wrong company. Double AAAAAAAAAGH.

Therefore, I have decided that, in addition to vacation days and sick leave, there should be days - say, five per year - designated for this purpose so that I don’t have to bother coming in only to wreck things. The point is not to use these days for the mornings when I can’t seem to drag my sorry behind out of bed, but for those days when I do get up and put forth my best effort to get on with the day, only to be thwarted at every turn. I think The Boss will approve this. I once called and told him I couldn’t come in because of a bad hair day (and folks, this was a bad hair day so far beyond any bad hair day you’re picturing, you just DON'T KNOW) and he said that was cool so long as I brought in a signed excuse from my hairdresser. So it all worked out and I think he should be okay with my new concept of “it ain’t happenin’” days. Demand some from your workplace, too! Viva la revolution!