Do you ever feel just a little out of sorts? Like nothing is terribly wrong or right, but you're walking down the center on a wobbly tightrope and could fall off on either side? And while you are not broken, you do feel like in a stiff wind, pieces of you would fly off in opposite directions while you ran around collecting yourself under cars and in the bushes?
Yeah, me too today.
I think the only cure for the out of sorts--or the mad reds as Holly Golightly would say--is a mud mask and a good book in your p.j.'s.
So I think that's what I'll do.