This morning started badly when an attempt to put on mascara (going home to see BGC innit) turned abruptly to lying on the bathroom floor with my legs up the wall and my heart fluttering annoyingly.

Today I learnt that trying to outstaunch shaky faintness doesn’t work.

Low blood pressure is a real ball ache sometimes.

Except when I don’t get heart disease, I’ll probably be stoked then. Which is now I guess, and every day until I hopefully don’t get heart disease.

But to tell you the truth I’m not that enamoured with all the fainty fainty heart racey that strikes me at the most inconvenient times.

Like that time I had to get down on the floor in the middle of a neverending queue to get a rental snowboard at Ruapehu. Or that time

I suddenly had to sit on a pile of doormats in IKEA with my ex (5 minute) boyfriend looking at me weird while I waited for my heart to stop feeling all pissy.

Or like when I just want to stand up for a few minutes after my shower to put on BGC-impressing mascara for when I see him for the first time in a whole (gasp) week.

Even though he prefers it when I don’t wear mascara.

He has eye issues.

From there I went on a 50 minute car 3 hour bus 30 minute car 3 hour 50 minute plane 20 min bus 30 minute tram ride to get back home. With one last stop at Burger Fuel in between.

By which time my mascara had worn off anyway and was mostly all under my eyes instead.

And BGC wasn’t home from work yet anyway so all the outstanching of low blood pressure was in vain.

On the bus I felt more down than I have in a long time. And on the plane. For no particular reason.

Just random downness that infiltrates your mind and sludges around your cells til you feel heavy with downness and

you start wishing you were sleeping forever horizontally in a pillow fort while asking yourself what the point of everything is.

And why you got sat next to the screaming baby and the very nice English man with very large, jabby elbows.

Also probably not aided by the news article that I read at 10 to midnight last night that had me sobbing as I went to sleep. Me and news = blubbering mess.

But realistically, no legit reason for feeling so down in the dumps.

Apart from that random hater on my satirical G-book FB ad telling me I should be grateful for having enough food to eat and perhaps I should inspect the underlying causes of my anger rather than blaming it on the kicking of my shins on my IKEA bed.

Always fun to have people take their internal anger at the unfairness world out on you in a way that you recognise at your core because you used to feel very much the same.

So all in all it was a crap day.

For no reason at all.

And, FB ad hater lady, that’s ok.

Some days are shit for no reason, and some days are really just harder than others, even when you have food and shelter and basic human rights and don’t live anywhere near any Trump supporters.

And then sometimes a magical day will come along with shiny, non-frizzy hair and sparkly eyes and make you forget all the average ones and you’ll remember that life is actually great and you’re very grateful for living it.

Even when you forget.

We’re human, we have humany struggles, and we have a mind hell bent on dwelling and worrying and over complicating shit that should be simple.

And even with all the bloody good tools in the world, sometimes it’s all too hard anyway and you just want to hide under the covers.

So whether you’re reading this on an iPhone in a privileged country or not, make sure your inner critic knows

it’s ok to have Debbie Downer days.

You’re not selfish for expressing it and trying to find ways to help yourself out of it.

And you don’t need to guilt yourself for feeling shit when your life is pretty great.

You’re just a regular, fascinating, beautiful, up and down human.

I’m pretty sure bad days are all part of the plan.