pyjamas of doom

I am standing in front of my closet, trying to pick out which shirt I will wear to go euthanize my cat. And I can't decide, because this is an absurd decision to have to make. Why would the universe force me into such a ridiculous situation? Why can't there be a clean shirt neatly folded on my bed already, so that my brain doesn't have to acknowledge forever more that this is the shirt I chose on This Day to do This Unpleasantness. Why do I have to make ANY more decisions today after the one I've already made?

Why is the universe forcing me to choose a shirt?

 This whole day is absurd.