where you hated every
single article
of clothing
that you owned
and
nothing fit you right
and your hair
took so long
to blowdry
that
you actually started
to break out into a sweat
making the hair damp and stick
to the back of your neck
again
and forcing you to examine
the futile exercise
of blowdrying.

a morning where you snapped at your husband
even though
he was just trying to be sweet
and your skirt felt too short
but you weren't sure what length was
acceptable for a person your age
and that pissed you off
that you even had to wonder that.

your razor was rusty
but it was ok
because it was so dull
it was unlikely you could cut yourself
no matter how hard
you might try.

it was just that kind of morning.