On the Fourth of July I did everything but be patriotic. I did not even don red-white-and-blue. It was serious.

The day turned sour from the moment I picked up my Teen Vogue.

I got lost inside the pages of designer clothes and 45 minutes later closed the magazine a depressed woman.
I fantasized about where I would wear such clothes and then realized that there is absolutely nothing to do here that requires a classy, well put together outfit. The melancholy set in. I turned up some obnoxious 80's revival tunes and went to bed at 5 p.m.

I woke up at 9 p.m. with greasy hair, wearing a less than attractive Goodwill tee, and exuding a stench of bad breath. It was then that I realized I'm the type of person that has to put a lot of effort in each outfit to feel polished. My life motto is, "You look good, you feel good," and without having to work or be present at any social events I have not been looking good.

So to achieve my potential I made a conscious decision to pull myself out of my bad hair/clothes/makeup/lazy slump. I took the first step and shuffled off to the kitchen to eat some cream puffs that weigh in at 305 calories a pop. I felt so much better.