bad day.

morning:
today
will be a good day
something will go right
everything won’t go wrong
I will wake up
to sunshine
rain will wait
until tomorrow

evening:
today
was a bad day
nothing went right
everything went wrong
I will close my eyes
under clouded moonlight
wishing for sunshine
but expecting rain


About the Author

what-sandra-thinks

Sandra is a writer, blogger, poet, artist, emotional disaster. She thinks far too much and sleeps far too little. Sandra lives in the Northeastern U.S. but dreams of an oceanfront home in Hawaii where she could learn to surf. She loves music, brutal honesty, coffee, and the color black. She hates insincerity, beer, whipped cream, and facebook. And she is uncomfortable talking about herself in the third person.

If you would like to know more (and you know you would), you can visit her blog What Sandra Thinks, find her on twitter @whatsandrathnks, or visit her shop what sandra makes.


 

Want to submit your own terrible morning? Visit our submissions page to find out how. 

Needless to Say, it’s been a Bad Morning

I woke up wildly unhappy this morning. My back was aching, the sound of my alarm felt like it was stabbing through my brain, and the sky was as grey as my hair will be after yet another long-as-hell day at work today.

So, I decided to make myself my favourite curry for lunch. I made it, it was amazing, I was starting to feel some sense of happiness again, and then I let it “simmer” while chatting with my mom as I ate my oatmeal. 30 minutes later, I run back into the kitchen to find my curry burnt to a crisp. I proceeded to hold in tears and a burning desire to scream at the top of my lungs, and instead took a deep breath and left my house silently.

At work my pants were uncomfortable, my backache felt like some god is trying to test my ability not to scream in public, and my inbox was filled with questions I honestly didn’t even know the answers to.

SO… Needless to say I was feeling just dandy this morning.

Silver lining? Tomorrow is going to feel freaking fabulous compared to today. I am healthy, I am alive, and I am making money that I will eventually use to move out for grad school. I just need to suck it up until December and get through these days with a smile on my face instead of complaining about it. It’s just more difficult some days than others.

Hope your morning was better than mine.

 


 

About the Author

Michelle Doyle

Michelle is a recent psychology grad from Toronto, Canada who is planning to pursue Art Therapy. She’s been writing since she picked up her first journal in grade 4, and began her blog in her first year of university. She loves to write short film screenplays, poetry, and fiction, along with painting, vegan cooking, and thrift shopping.

You can find her blog at https://doseofdelight.wordpress.com/


 

Want to submit your own terrible morning? Visit our submissions page to find out how. 

Bad Morning to You

She saw the sun cresting her curtains
Believing in a new day of wonder & uncertains
Hopeful in all ways, feeling warmth from the sun’s rays

Drawing them back, each panel they give slack
Shining; she opens her window to let in more light
Stillness in the air as most are slumbering in delight

Her favorite part of her day; everything new in each way
A past to be dredged; discontentment to be spread
The morning crushed abruptly instead


About the Author

Blogger and poet at Sweet Dreams & Rude Awakenings says, “I am numerologically a middle aged woman (don’t feel it but my body does). I have two beautiful children I share my time with & I am blessed with living in the great NW. Writing is a wonderful release for me, best therapy there is! (Next to walking on the beach)”


Want to submit your own terrible morning? Visit our submissions page to find out how. 

My Terrible Morning

Today I woke up at 6:45, which may not seem like anything worth mentioning as it’s a pretty common wake up time, and has been, for the past few months, the time my alarm has gone off every single day. But this morning when I got up at that time, I was upset with myself.

This week, at least until today, I’d woken up at 5:45, an hour earlier, to get a jump on my day and get in some writing and coffee before I had to get ready for work, and for those two days I was happy in my situation. I’m the non-driven type of person who believes in the old adage of working to live rather than living to work, and doing something I enjoy before spending nine hours at my job makes me feel like I do other things besides work during the week—an important distinction for me so I don’t grow to hate and resent my job. But today, I woke up late, which was just the start of my terrible morning.

I turned on the shower and walked down the hall to get a towel out of the closet, only to find that there weren’t any in there. Another part of being someone who lacks drive to do things that don’t interest me, leads to using all of the towels before washing them—a terrible flaw that came back to bite me today. The towels were all in the washing machine, soaking wet, so I was faced with the dilemma of using a hand towel to dry off, or a t-shirt. I chose the hand towel, which absorbed all the water from my hair immediately before I had the chance to dry off any other part of me.

It was just one of those days.

Today in my clothing rotation, the white shirt with blue stripes was up, a shirt that I don’t really like all that much because it feels tighter than my others, but again my procrastination when it comes to laundry left me with little choice but to wear that one. I put it on and went into the bathroom to brush my hair, which decided to be especially uncooperative. One of my coworkers commented that it looked like I just got out of bed and came to work. It really was a pretty bad morning.

I arrived a couple minutes late to work, ready for the day to be over. Luckily my day turned around when I found my first counterfeit bill since I started working at the bank.

You gotta enjoy the little things in life.

When I got home my new water bottle had arrived, one that will keep beverages cooler for extended periods of time and hold more liquid than the tumbler I currently drink out of. All in all it turned out to be a pretty good day, despite my terrible morning. Maybe tomorrow will start off better.

 


 

About the Author

unnamed

Kendall is a fan of sports, good food, the city he lives in, and lots of things in between. He likes to think that he is funny and would appreciate a fake laugh every now and again to boost his self esteem. Thanks for taking the time to read mostly meaningless things that Kendall decides to write about each day. He really appreciates it.

You can find Kendall on his blog, Twitter, & Instagram


 

Want to submit your own terrible morning? Visit our submissions page to find out how. 

Damsel in Distress


Monday morning.  President’s Day.  I SHOULD have off from work, but I don’t.

I step outside my apartment building around 8:30am and immediately feel the biting, piercing cold.  I cross over 1st Avenue and within seconds I hear a quiet yet commanding voice: “EXCUSE ME!!!!!!!!!!

I look to my right and there she is – a very old woman, sitting in her wheelchair outside of the senior center across the street from my apartment.  ”Can you give me a push?“  I look around and yep, I’m the only one there.  She is talking to me.

I walk over to this woman, who is tiny and wrinkly like a little shriveled up raisin, and am prepared to move her wheelchair slightly for her.  Maybe the sun was in her eyes and she wanted to have her back to it.  Maybe she wanted to face a different direction.  I don’t know.  As I place my hands on the wheelchair handles she asks me where I’m going.  I tell her I’m headed to the subway.

Perfect,“ she says.

Whoa, wait.  Perfect?  Does this little old lady expect me to push her three avenues and three blocks to my subway stop?  And then what happens?  She’s getting on the 6 train with me?!  Where exactly is she headed?  I don’t want to commit to this.  I immediately look at a man in a janitor-type uniform who is sweeping around the area for guidance. He shrugs.

HELP, let’s go – I’m FREEZING!!!!!!!!“ she screams at me.

IT IS WAY TOO EARLY FOR THIS SHIT.

It then immediately dawns on me that it’s totally strange this elderly woman is lounging outside on a freezing cold morning, unattended.  Is she a resident of this senior center and plotting her escape?  Am I her accomplice?  Even worse, is she some kind of scam artist?

I pictured me innocently wheeling this woman around the Upper East Side and then getting put in ‘cuffs for ‘Attempting to Steal an Old Person.’  And I assure you, I do not want an old person.  A puppy, maybe, but not an old person.  And ESPECIALLY not this one; she seems cranky.

I know the man with the broom has observed my encounter with Granny, so I call him over and explain to him that I don’t feel comfortable taking this random old lady for a joy ride, and that I don’t feel comfortable just leaving her, either.  She now changes her tune.  “I HAVE TO GO TO THE FOOT DOCTOR!”  she demands.  OK, enough of this.

I head towards the senior center and barge into the front door to find a woman sitting at the front desk, conversing with a man who appears to be an orderly of some sort.  I begin to explain my situation.

Hi, so there’s a woman outside in her wheelchair –-”

Yep, Francis.”  The woman at the desk interrupts me.

OK well she is asking me to take her somewhere in her wheelchair and I felt bad just leaving her –

Yes, I know.  She does this every day.  She actually can walk you know, she just doesn’t want to.  She’s fine, don’t worry about her.

(WELL I HAPPEN TO HAVE A GOOD CONSCIENCE SO SUE ME)

Uh, okay.  It’s also about 15 degrees out and she said she’s freezing, so…

The woman turns to the orderly and says, “Bring her back in here, will ya?”  He obliges and walks me out, giving me the back story on my friend Francis.  “She’s 100, you know.  She refuses to walk but she can.  She also always tries to get random people on the street to take her somewhere.

Yes, I gathered that.  So as Francis was getting wheeled back inside, I said goodbye to my new friends and continued my walk to the train – all while thinking to myself, I hope I drop dead before getting to that point in my life.

And for added measure, I made it to my subway stop (still frazzled from earlier events) to find a ton of signs everywhere:  ”NO LOCAL DOWNTOWN TRAINS TODAY. PLEASE WALK TO 59th STREET.“  (Which is another 10 blocks away).

So I took a cab, and entered a desolate, deserted work building – because every other company was off today.


About the Author

Allison A

Allison is a 30-something New Yorker who blogs over at (her initials/nickname; not to be confused with Alcoholics Anonymous) about dating/relationships, women’s issues, pop culture and the hilarious shenanigans she often gets herself into. When she isn’t writing she’s working at her day job in digital media/advertising, photographing EVERYTHING and thinking about how she can become friends with Beyoncé.

You can find her on Twitter, Instagram, and her blog.


 

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