Posted by: Chelsea Novak | June 9, 2006

Chew me up and spit me out… I still hold my shape

Oh it’s not good when you actually start deriving comfort from that “Bad Day” song. But yesterday really was a bad day. When no matter what amount of effort I put forth, I could not negotiate the right outcome.

Work was just big bad thing after small, tedious and annoying bad thing. I learned that what makes a scar a scar is the fact that you can’t make it go away (unless you happen to be part of a clinical trial in India taking low doses of medication usually used to control epilepsy and migraines. I’m not) and that you should never try on a bikini when you’re bloated and need to use the washroom. The results aren’t going to be anything but sorrow and self-loathing.

I couldn’t even self-medicate the enourmous stress and annoyance the day produced by shopping it away, as all the stores were filled to the brim with crap (just as well really as trying to fix a bad day with shopping leads to a really bad day when the bill arrives). Is it further proof of the suckage of this week that now that I have the figure that I want, that all that can be found in stores is the ever so unflattering Hobo chic look?

Even when I picked up sushi for dinner last night, thinking that a comforting treat would brighten the world, the heavens opened up and drenched me on the walk home and the sushi gave me heart burn. I couldn’t even keep my eyes open long enough last night to see Miami blow a great lead and lose the first game of the finals (Just so you all know, we’re cheering for Miami. No debates).

And it seems that the stench of yesterday has stuck with me. My shoe broke on the way out the door for as I tried to make it to a 7 a.m. shoot that the photographer forgot about. Awesome.

Who needs a drink.

Today’s sing-a-long song: “Bad Day” by Daniel Powter



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