My daily diet has become increasingly supermodelesque: Marlboro Light and Evian. I now dread going into work each morning so much that it causes physical discomfort. Getting out of bed's a Herculean task, seemingly more so than my darkest days of depression because I absolutely don't want to be there. I'm so unhappy, and I just can't see a way out. Every morning I look in the mirror at me in my belligerent effort at not wearing a suit and repeat my silent affirmations like a mantra as I leave. I am not a professional. I am not a professional.