I got so much work done yesterday revising and replotting that I decided to run my errands last night so I would have an entire day free to work again today. I also had planned a very exciting blog post, some research for a project I have to present this weekend, and who knows what other productive tasks I could accomplish.

Then my boss called at about 10:45.

“Uh, yeah,” she said. “You were supposed to open the store today.”

Picture me like this:

*headdesk* (Though I am happy I got to share that video with you.)

This was extra-double-bad because my fiance and I share a car, and about ten minutes earlier, he had taken it to work. I was stranded, the bus only runs about once an hour, and the store—right on the town square—was standing dark and empty. Lucky for me, my fiance is a nice guy, so he turned around to come back and pick me up. He sat on the couch and watched me scamper around, putting my gungy hair in a ponytail, packing some bread and butter to eat for a “nutritious” combination breakfast and lunch, and generally acting like a complete idiot.

Five hours later, I shuffled up the steps to our apartment, ponytail sagging and tote bag overflowing with my laptop power cord and the empty bags from my “lunch.” My feet hurt because I chose to wear ridiculous knee-high boots with my gypsy skirt (fondly known by my fiance as the “crazy bag lady skirt”), my nose is running like a faucet because I’m still not over the bronchitis of doom, and the only thing I’ve eaten all day is said bread and butter and a handful of honey-roasted peanuts.

As I carried those idiot boots over one arm, tote bag slung over the other arm, my fiance said, “Now you really look like a crazy bag lady.”

It’s just been one of those days, readers. You know the ones. Somehow everything you planned goes up in smoke, your hair resists every effort to look nice, you realize you’ve been wearing your shirt inside out all day, the car won’t start when you’re already running late, the cat throws up on the carpet right where you first step out of bed, the toast burns, and you really wish you’d just shut your cellphone off and stayed in bed.

Lucky me, though, I have a job I love and awesome readers like you. And as Kristen Lamb said yesterday, a writing career is a marathon, not a sprint, and we have to work on a lot more than character arcs and subplots. Today was just a long-run day, and I’ll be the stronger tomorrow for it.

But if you’ll excuse me for now, I’m going to watch that chipmunk video about a dozen more times and help myself to a beer. And then this evening I’ll get some of the work I had planned done, because writing is totally worth looking like a crazy bag lady.