So you wake up. And you’re like Aargh. Why do I feel like I was hit by a truck. So then you struggle through the whole shower/tooth brushing/yowling furious cat morning bathroom routine before proceeding to the hopeless cause of getting dressed. After staring at the hideous array of work appropriate attire, by which we mean jeans that aren’t too faded/grubby and a collection of bedraggled polo shirts, you put on a moderately clean shirt and you think Where did I get this shirt anyway and then you think I have had this ugly ass shirt 6 years and I wear it once a week. It’s not a cool shirt or a good shirt, it’s a shirt from Old Navy that came with several other shirts for a total of $15.

So then you come to work and you are trying to make a photocopy and some jackass has left the copy machine set to 3 so you quickly have 4000 copies and then you are squatting on the floor trying to sort out the mess, muttering about the injustice and there’s a meeting in 20 minutes and you’re still in the ugly shirt and it’s just too much to take.