the drag

It's the time of the day when I'm most tired, the blood sugar plummets, the caffeine starts exiting the system, and I've been feeling like I'm swimming in a fishbowl way too long, and everything just makes me a little more nervy than usual and I find myself trying harder to maintain this smile, which turns to scowling when crossed with too many space cadets and the usual clowns. I don't want to make conversation, your attempts at chatting up are as unwelcome as a middle finger.  Those who don't know me very well think I'm happy and kind and gracious all the time. I wish I was. That mid-afternoon is always my low-water mark. I haven't been what I want to be, and the harder I try to not be a jerk, the more exasperated I get all around.

I am so tired, and maybe a little burned out. The world depresses me and sometimes it's hard to believe that God is good when I see what I see. I haven't been sleeping well, which doesn't help, neither does the runny nose, the stuffed-up brain, the ennui of winter and illness and not enough sunlight.  So yeah, that double-whammy of emotional and physical and maybe some spiritual weariness thrown in for some good measure.

I am thankful, I guess, for divine intervention into my suckitude, for tuneage, for naps, for herbal tea, for coworkers who are honest enough to tell me when I'm wrong and kind enough to not make me feel worse, who put up with my strange strain of crazy and the fits of melancholia. I'm thankful for movie nights and friends and that soon the days will be longer again. I can't wait for those days. 

deluded interluded

Flying down to Georgia, the land of peaches, Outkast, confederate laser light shows, REM, and Flannery O'Connor at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning for a few days with some good friends with whom I share a love of people-watching, punk rock, Norse mythology, and pondering the questions of the universe. They live in the foothills so I'll be flying into Atlanta, taking a bus to Athens, and then hanging out in the mountains for a few days getting my hiking metal punk on. Trips to further places are warranting panic right now so at least this will be happening. Expect pictures and tales in a few days, kids. It's about damn time I had a vacation.

fever dreams

Obligation trumps feeling, and I thought I'd feel better after puking, but everyone else is out sick and in a few hours so will I. Even the head honcho here told me to go home because I never take off work unless I'm almost dead. Hopefully I'll be all in one piece tomorrow and before I go anywhere.

let me be, just let me be

I'm sure the mood will improve tonight, upon reading of James Joyce and quaffing of grownup beverages and maybe a preliminary old lady nap. In the meantime, it'll be nice to get out of this slab and darkthrone for an hour. 

when all is blank, minutes are worthless.

It's not the end of the world, but enough people who make mountains out of molehills makes the world sometimes feel like the Himalayas. Things that aren't the end of the world become as such, if only to make oneself look good, and I shouldn't have maybe assumed the best of someone.

I'm hoping this triviality blows over, though it always astounds me how one slip is an opportunity for others to climb up, how one slip is the end of the world and the otherwise overwhelming consistency is ignored. It shouldn't bother me but I have less patience for this absurdity than I used to and I'm just trying to maintain some kind of calm and perspective, though I'm already jittery and frustrated with other things too.