Some days aren't that great. Some weeks aren't that great. Some months aren't that great. We complain, we get help, we move on. That's life. We do that for our entire lives, and oftentimes, we don't think much of it.

Though, sometimes, things can just seem entirely against you.

Imagine this: On Tuesday, your partner goes out of town, and that night you drop your dinner on your freshly cleaned floor.

The next night, you melt your instant noodles in the microwave and have to deal with cleaning the microwave and airing out the stench.

The night after, your lowkey bug problem becomes a legitimate issue because they're now in your cat's food, and she doesn't want to eat.

On Sunday, you go to your apartment's office to make an in-person pest control request. You get told you'll receive a call once an appointment has been made.

That afternoon, you notice a weird rash forming on your arm, and you want to put a cheese grater to it. You're sensitive to sunlight, so you write it off as a sun rash.

Monday morning, you buy some Cortizone because that's helped before. It barely does anything. You don't get the chance to debate calling the doctor because it then storms, and the rain decides to happen inside your apartment rather than outside it. You run around your apartment, pulling everything away from the windows while setting towels, cups, and pots down to catch the water.

Then you trip over yourself and hit the ground hard. The rash on your arm stings and burns, your big toe feels wrong, and the pain in your knee makes you want to puke. You try not to cry.

You somehow succeed and get back up. Your apartment isn't fully water-proofed yet, and you refuse to risk getting mold again.

Maintenance comes after the storm is over and takes pictures. They leave. You hear nothing from them.

On Tuesday, you call your doctor. The rash is continuing to grow, and you do your best to not think about the fact that it looks like it's following a vein. Your toe looks to have a small piece missing, it looks swollen, it can't bend well, and you can't feel much when you poke around it. Hydrogen peroxide makes you scream, so clearly, the nerves aren't totally dead.

That afternoon, you go to the doctor and get told your rash isn't a sun rash. The doctor doesn't actually know what it is, but he says it's a good idea that you came in. Rashes shouldn't spread like that. He confirms your fear that it looks like it's following a vein. He also says it's a good thing you came in to get your toe checked because it looks "pretty nasty." You get a shot, a cream and a steroid pack.

Your butt now hurts because you just took a needle in the ass, and you're not looking forward to taking 21 pills in the span of six days.

It's now Wednesday, and you've gone to the front office to talk to the manager. You've asked about the pest control— "Oh, my bad, they're coming Thursday afternoon." Maintenance— "I didn't hear anything about a leak." At this, you resist the urge to scream and cry because you've done enough of both over the past week.

Instead, you smile and say, "I'll be back in 24 hours to see what you've heard from maintenance. If pest control doesn't come tomorrow, I'll be back on Friday."

It's now Wednesday afternoon, and you're writing an article because you refuse to let life crap all over your typical schedule. You're writing about this because people need to know that there are bad days, bad weeks and bad months, but sometimes, it just feels like everything is against you.

These times happen. Cry. Scream. Treat yourself to a dinner you know you probably can't afford. Do what you need to do responsibility-wise so you can spend the rest of your time trying to relax until the waves even out again. Stressing isn't going to help. Take some self-care measures, even if it's as simple as watching Netflix all day with your favorite comfort food.

Because that counts as self-care.

It doesn't have to be face masks and healthy food and going outside. While that stuff is all good for you, sometimes you just need a good show, to cry your frustration out and your favorite junk food.