Wimping Out

When you're having "one of those days" - you know, the kind where you think you'll move to Australia (apparently, in Australia and New Zealand, you might rather move to Timbuktu in Mali) - what do you do?

Do you bite everyone's head off?
Do you curl up and pull the covers over your head?
Do you call Mom (or your best friend, or your therapist, whomever)?
Do you go running (or boxing, for that matter)?
Do you bite the bullet and tootle on your merry way (ignoring the way to Australia, I mean)?
Do you address whatever ills made it "one of those days" to begin with?
Do you do something to make your day better?

I'd like to think I'd do that last option. Or the second-to-last one. Or even the one before that. But today, I wimped out (perhaps for the protection of myself and the others who were caught in the maelstrom). Since I couldn't pick up and take myself "down under," I decided to pick myself up and leave work earlier than I would have otherwise. I stomped around a bit, and spewed about the events that corrupted my day (beginning with some whopping mosquito bites last night).

Finally, I sat myself down to a cuppa, and refocused myself for the evening. The leavings and gleanings of the day aren't over, but maybe the storm has broken.

PS: The day wasn't all bad - I did receive some incredibly nice compliments...