Today

I don’t want to pull on my

big girl pants today.

I don’t want to regale the staff 

With funny stories at

coffee break today.

I don’t want to whistle while I 

work today. 

Or sing, or chatter gaily, or to smile.

In fact, I don’t want to go to work

at all today. 

I don’t want to get up,

paint on a happy face

and find my big girl pants

to wear today. 

I want to curl up under my 

duvet today and make the world disappear.

Pretend nothing else exists outside 

of my bed today. 

I don’t want to pull myself together, to

be brave, or to

be resilient, today. 

I give myself permission to cry all day

today. 

Relentless, exhausting weeping with

streaming eyes and runny, red nose from endless

shredded tissues. 

That’s what I want to do today. 

Give in. 

Succumb to melancholy 

And the futility of being me. 

No, I do not want to pull on my big girl pants 

at all today, maybe tomorrow,

But today, 

I will not.