Flying off the Handle

I knew today was going to be a day.

I knew it from the moment Dominic vomited in the car last night (not my car luckily, but still unpleasant nonetheless, especially considered my phobia of vomit/vomiting).

I knew it when I was up until 2 am fighting panic attacks related to said phobia, when I had to be on campus at 8.

And then I knew it when I woke up at 7, rolled out of bed, threw a sweatshirt on over my pjs and nearly sleep-walked to my lab, hood still up.

And then of course, it’s the PhD interview day, so there are people in and out of my lab, dressed all nice, and I’m half in what I slept in last night and I’m pretty sure there’s toothpaste on my sweatshirt. Thank god for the lab coat.

And to make it even worse, I got a paper back and I did not do as well as I had wanted, so now I have to rewrite and resubmit.

This week has just been one “you’re not good enough” after another.

I surrender.