I wish I had a good story to share.

So, I had a bad day and a bad night. And I feel like my legs are about to collapse under me when I hover from one room to another. It's the little things. Much like how a glass of clear water is spoiled by just one drop of ink. Except ink usually gives beautiful shades when diluted. My bad days are much more like a mix of too many water-colours, of a non-colour, of the consistency of foul milk.