Tomorrow I will dress appropriately for social interaction, instead of leaving the house in clothes that resemble my pajamas as closely as possible.
I will take my headphones and sunglasses off, make eye contact with people and smile.
Tomorrow I will put the laundry away, and stop this perpetual circular dance around the laundry basket that I do every morning, digging like a pig for truffles to find outfits for me and the kids.
Tomorrow I will stop moping. I will pick myself up and dust myself off and say "so what?" every time the sadness backs up in my throat and tries to push tears down my cheeks.
Tomorrow I will stop smoking.
Tomorrow I will interact with my co-workers. I will be pleasant and friendly and maybe have lunch in the company of others, instead of by myself with headphones and a book so that no one will speak to me.
Tomorrow I will stop writing such depressing shit.
Tomorrow I will start writing the book that I've been saying I might write someday. I'm going to write it now.
Now as in tomorrow, I mean.
Tomorrow I am going to get my shit together.
I'm going to move on, move forward.
I'm going to be better and stronger and faster and completely free from the tangled branches I continue to let hold me down.
I will be put together, polished, professional, and all other positive adjectives that start with P.
Tomorrow I will do better.
But today...today is a very hard day.