Andrea and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day...

Alexander ain't got nothing on me. Today I'm full of angst.

Angst: a feeling of dread, anxiety, or anguish.

Isn't that a great word? There are never enough opportunities to use the word angst, unless you are a writer for Gossip Girl. And even then, you aren't really using the word as much as you are embodying the definition in your script writing.

In case you haven't discovered the not-so-secret truth about me.... well, I'm a drama queen. Actually, I'm a Drama Queen. The levels of my drama really call out for capital levels. Tonight was a good example: as I burned my leg for the 55th time with a piping hot glob of hot glue, I whined repeatedly "oh, it hurts. IT HURTS! I'll be scarred, husband, scarred for LIFE!" And it did, but not that bad. I just like to be dramatic. Angsty, if you will. Somewhere in the world, my mother is reading this and nodding.

Remember me posting yesterday about this super cute little black dress from Target? Well, I went to the store today to try it on. Dear goodness me, it was not pretty. You know how sports bras just kind of push your breasts together, forming the ever so attractive uniboob, and then on top of that, mash the whole package flat? Yeah - picture that, but in a dress. First I tried it in the size I normally wear, and while it fit in the waist and hips, it smashed my boobies flatter than pancakes. I had side boobage: the top was so tight, my breasts were trying to escape via my armpits. It was not pretty. It hurt my ego a little, but I went up and size and I'll be darned if I couldn't get the next size down over my chest. So I went yet another size up, and this one fit exactly like the first. It was a struggle to even get it over my chest, and once it was on it was on I was one deep breath away from the dress being a pile of threads. TWO SIZES UP! Are you kidding me?

I ended up purchasing this dress, which is much flattering to the girls, and doesn't make me feel like I must move around like a wooden toy soldier the entire time I wear it. What you can't really tell from the picture is that the vertical sash is a silvery gray, which pairs well with the jewelry I chose and the shoes below.

I'm pairing it with these shoes (see above). I'm dragging the husband to The Nutcracker this weekend and this will be my ensemble. I also lucked into these shoes (see below), which were on sale for $11. Score! In case you are counting, that makes 6 pairs of shoes that I've purchased in the past two weeks. I have an addition.

Moving on to the angsty part of my day: in addition to being completely demoralized by my Target dress shopping escapades, I also managed to burn my hand and leg while making a wreath tonight. It isn't pretty, y'all. I'm convinced my hot glue gun will be the death of me. It hates me. It is punishing me for something. Perhaps it is angry because I used floral wire instead of hot glue on my Halloween wreath? Who knows.

But by far, the worst part of my night came just a few short minutes ago. See, I spent the better part of two hours making a peppermint candy wreath for my office door. It was super cute and completely fabulous, until the incident. When the wreath was complete, I got up to take it outside to spray it with sealant. I sat the wreath on the edge of my kitchen table while I picked up the sealant spray, and I watched in horror as it tumbled to the floor and shattered.

I just can't win. I swear, it is my hot glue gun. It hates me, and I'm convinced it is conspiring against me. Save me, readers. I think I need an intervention.