fading bliss aka to wear red lipstick

i woke up this morning and the whole day seemed so full of potential. the sun was streaming through the curtains and i was being held so comfortably in my boyfriend's arms, who kind of murmered in his sleep and kissed my shoulder. little things. these are what matter.
then walking to work with my big sunglasses covering my eyes to hide the fact that i had been slack this morning AGAIN and forgot to put my make up on, planning what my outfit for the Ladyfest Launch Party would look like, and planning what my outfit for my upcoming job interview would look like. (both amazing, both perfect, im thinking black sequins for one, grey and yellow with waist belt and my fifties shoes for the other).
and all of a sudden i'm at work and like a crack of lightening all the peaceful bliss shatters in a flood of yellow green neon strip lighting and the extraordinary grey speckled walls and ceilings that bear down on me like some crushing cave.
hmm, "crushing cave" sounds a bit adolescent, but i like the alliteration.
already i've had a whole stream of people be rude to me because i won't let them in the library on account of it being closed. this one woamn was practically shouting at me, and i felt like an awful "computer says no" woman, but listen lady, just because you talk with something stuck to the back of your throat and thrust your chin and head out at me, doesn't mean i can turn the hands of the clock, risk losing my job and change time just because you want to use the library half an hour before it is open. i hate being a receptionist who moonlights as a writer and (at the moment) festivla organiser. it just results in making me so cross. every day i have to deal with people who talk down to me and shout at me, or look right through me as though I'm not there. And like some evil celebrity i want to yell 'do you know who i am?'. i go home every afternoon and my life switches and im scribbling notes or im on the phone to a journalist or im freaking out that the paitings aren't going to arrive. it is like being at school all over again. at school where i was looked through or looked at to be mocked, then in the evening when they were swigging bacardi breezers in a club in weston super mare, i was swirling my hips dilated eyes on the guest list at some drum n bass night. then back to school to be pushed aside in the dirt.
i have two options, i've decided.
i get a new job.
i start wearing red lipstick and killer heels to work.