It's hot and huumid, and I just wrote 2800 words for a story due this week.
I have to pick up The Rabbit, drop off the dry cleaning, stop by the grocery store and find something to slop together for dinner.
My shirt is stretched out, I don't even know where my lipstick is. A fly the size of a kumquat just attacked me, and I have callouses on my feet that have measurable depth.
My brain is fried, my hair kinked out into snarls and my breath corrupted from too much coffee.
I need a pedicure. I need screens on my windows. I need a popsicle.
I need a fairy godmother. All reasonable applicants considered.