It's midnight, and that counts for a day. So. The thirtyfirst has been a day when I couldn't do or say anything right. I mucked up a date to get together for RPG with someone, I ticked off someone else, and a third someone's not talking to me.
I'm tempted to find chocolate and a bunker and a big tin hat and hide out until the alien brainsucking rays have passed over, or gotten deflected by the smog or something. Call me when it's all over, Jeeves.