Sometimes a day ends like that final lap on the track in P.E. class, where you come limping in behind the people who could actually run, gasping pathetically, stitch burning in your side. Coach Jim is hollering at you to walk it off with your hands up behind your head so you can get plenty of oxygen.
It's like that moment just before you step off the track into the grassy field, bend over, and hurl in front of the cute boys.
And then for the rest of the year you're The Girl Who Puked in P.E.
Some days are like that. If you see me leaving the office with my hands behind my head, that's why.