Today I'm held together with Diet Coke, carbohydrates, and Nars lipstick. God help me if I'd been out of any of those life-saving salves. I'm having such a bad hair day I didn't even look in the mirror before I raced out the door, so I might look like I'm debuting my Halloween costume a tad early.
My sweater itches, my skirt keeps twisting up, I just discovered a hole in my shoe, and my under drawers are cuttin into my thigh crease. Damn. I hate this day.
This is what I call a Damn Disastrous Day, or Triple D, because I will feel uncomfortable and out of sorts until I can go home, rip my bra off (that's killin me too, by the way), put on my house clothes and pour a glass of red, red, wine.
Argh! Triple D you have done it again!
I should have really checked the mirror before I left....Too heavy on the eye shadow?