And suddenly, her day turned into the kind that explained why God invented chocolate, comfy pants, and booze.

Time for a showdown with her mutinous brewmaster. She'd tried nice. She'd tried all business. She'd tried cajoling. Now, it was time to try bitch with big brass balls.

In her career, she'd closed multi-million dollar deals without a hint of nerves. Now she needed a jumbo-sized bottle of antacids just to get out of her car. Or a double shot of whiskey. God, she was losing it.

She hadn't just drunk the Salvation Kool-Aid - she'd started to brew her own.