Didn’t we just survive Tuesday one week ago? It’s back already?

There are only two ways to keep it together on Tuesday: 1) Go back to bed, or 2) hear me whine about what’s driving me crazy today.

• Standing in line at Café Rio, silently practicing my order.
• When the dishwasher breaks and I think, that’s okay, washing dishes by hand is therapeutic. But two days later I’m just throwing plates and shit away because I hate washing dishes.
• 3 a.m.
• When my zipper comes unzipped at the bottom.

(You had one thing to do, zipper.)

• Running up the basement stairs so the monsters don’t get me. Still.
• Repeating a favorite song so many times that I start hating it.
• Not having time for a much-needed mental breakdown.
• Trying to pry apart an English muffin without smashing half of it.  You couldn’t cut this thing all the way through?

(Damn, English sense of humor.)

• Knowing that explaining something really slowly to stupid people doesn’t make them understand it any better.
• Wishing the bottle of body wash would run out so I can use a new fragrance.
• Having music shame. Definition: Rocking out to Iggy Azalea at the gym. When someone asks what I’m listening to, I say Adele.
• Never finding my name on the personalized Coke bottles.

(I’m always just the friend.)

• Not knowing if I pulled a chest muscle, or if I’m experiencing heart failure.
• Never being quite sure what to do with my hands if someone’s talking to me while I’m standing up.
• Avocados.

There. Now you can go back to bed!