Doing

I don’t do ugly days.

Well, my mind doesn’t, at least. It curls into a tiny, sweaty ball and hiccups.

No, not pretty.

Not very productive either.

I did try to power through it. Decided to fry me up a hamburger…

Yeah, well, let’s just say that 14 hours later the smoke finally cleared the house and only one pan died in the fiasco.

No, I don’t do ugly days.

Ugly days do me.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

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