Mental Health Day

I went to work today. I drove over there and saw the parking lot and everything. But I just couldn’t drive across the threshold.

You know those days when you’re just positive, if you go into work, you’ll never come out alive?

Monday had been so awful. Awful, awful. awful. It was like Insane Day at Bank of No Forks. Every single call was from one manner of lunatic or another. I was yelled at by complete strangers more times than any person should have to be.

So when I came to the border of the parking lot and, on the spur of the moment, I drove on by. If Ava wasn’t even going to be there to suffer with me cause she’s off in freaking France, then I had to do a last second drive-by. I texted the receptionist that I was taking one of my sick days, because if I wasn’t sick, I have no idea what I was. Apparently, no one at the office was surprised to hear that I’d bailed out.

Instead, I took myself to my favorite restaurant for an omelet and I wrote four pages.  Then I took back some jeans because had some sort of mental deficiency when I bought them last week. They were “long”. I assure you, I am not a “long” jeans wearer unless I have stilts on. Then I went to the Church – as you may recall that’s what Ava and I call the Starbucks in the Barnes & Noble. While I was there I wrote five more pages.

Then I went home and started the laundry and pestered the cat and watched a Tom Hanks movie.

I had a great day and no one yelled at me. I think I’ll be able to face the horror again tomorrow.