Why do all my pants look a bit too short?
Why do I have to pick a pair of socks with a hole in one of them?
Why does my hair have to turn out great on a day when it’s snowing only to look like hell by the time I get to work?
Why are my ears still plugged?
Why does Charlie have to be so adorable when I have to go to work?
Why is the bus driver sticking to the right-hand lane, which is always backed up at that time of the morning because it leads to an on-ramp to the highway, totally ignoring the empty bus lane?
Why didn’t I remember to wear my watch? Why do I keep checking my #@! wrist?
Why don’t they add more trains at rush hour?
Why isn’t the book I’m reading better written? Didn’t they have an editor?
Why couldn’t I have gotten the freight elevator, which doesn’t have a mirror, so I don’t have to look at my hair?
Why am I stopping at every floor? Why don’t the people in this building take the stairs once in awhile?
Why did I buy a coffee when there’s fresh coffee in the kitchen?
Don’t you dare tell me I’m hormonal.